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THE 

INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS 



^ ^ m ^ mm m m m M MM 



Jnttlltjgenre of Animals, 



ILLUSTRATIVE ANECDOTES. 



FROM THE FRENCH OF ERNEST MENAULT. 




SHity lllttstratanwl W 




CHARLES SCRIBNER & CO., 

654 BROADWAY. 

1870. 






&$> 



Illustrated Eibrary of Wonders. 



PUBLISHED BY 



3Ttessrs. (Cfjarfes ScrtOner & (Co., 

654 BIIOADWAY, NEW YORK. 
E;ich one volume 12mo. Price per volume, $1.50. 



Titles of Books. 




No. of Illustrations 


Wonders of Optics, 




70 


Thunder and Lightnino, 




. 39 


Wonders of Heat, 




90 


Intelligence of Animals, 




. 5-1 


Great Hunts, 




22 


Egypt 3,300 Years Ago, 




. 40 


Wonders of Pompeii, 




30 


Sublime in Nature, . 




. 50 


Bottom of the Ocean, 




88 


Wonders of the Heavens, 




. 48 


Wonders of Architecture, 




50 


Acoustics, . 




. 114 


Wonders of the Human Erame, 




45 


Lighthouses, 






Subterranean World, 




27 


* In Press for early 


publication. 





The above works sent to any address, post-paid, upon receipt of the prtca 
by the publishers. 






I9Z. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGB 

Ants ! 



14 

23 



Spiders 

Bees 

Humble-Bees 35 

Fleas and Bugs 39 

Reptiles and Batrachians . . . . . .44 

The Snakes . . . . 49 

The Lizard . . .53 

Tortoises 56 

The Salamander . .61 

The Domesticated Toad 64 

Fish 6y 

Birds ... 88 

The Parrot 113 

The Cockatoos . . . . . . . . .118 

Jacko (the Grey Parrot) 120 

The Eagle 128 

Variety of Bird Intelligence 134 

The Swallows . . . 139 

The Raven, Rook, and Magpie 146 

The Partridge 152 

The Goldfinch 155 

The Canary 159 



VI CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

The Slandered Birds . . . 161 

Turkeys ... 164 

The Crane and the Drake ...... 168 

The Mammalia 172 

Cetacea 182 

The Marsupialia 190 

The Edentata 196 

The Rodentia 202 

Rats 206 

Hares and Rabbits ...... . . 220 

The Beaver 224 

The Ruminants 229 

The Camel— The Llama 231 

Oxen 233 

The Stag 239 

Sheep, Goats, and Antelopes 245 

Pachydermata 253 

The Elephant 255 

The Horse 272 

The Ass 284 

Swine 292 

The Carnivora 296 

The Cat . . .298 

The Wolf 303 

The Fox 3 IQ 

The Dog 3 J 7 

Quadrumana 353 

The Orang-Outang 355 

The Chimpanzee 366 




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



1. The Orang Outang Mimicking a Man. . Frontispiece 

2. Ants, winged and wingless (workers). 

3. The Ant bending a Cora-leaf. 

4. The Ants with the Cockchafer's Wing. 

5. The Ant carrying the Beetle's Leg. 

6. Web Lines spanning a Stream. . 

7. The American Geometrical Spider and Web, 

8. The Honey-Bee. .... 

9. Death's-Head Moth attacking the Hives. 

10. Trained Fleas at W T ork and at Drill. 

11. Sagacious Bug dropping from the Ceiling 

12. Snakes in Leading-strings. 

13. Snake swimming after its Mistress. 

14. Tortoise under a Wagon-wheel. 

15. The Stickleback and its Nest. 

16. Bandaging a Pike's Fractured Skull. . 

17. The Carrier Pigeon flying Straight for Home. 

18. The Goldfinch giving notice of his Master's Arrival. 

19. The Ostrich burying her Eggs in the Sand. 

20. The Magpie defending her Nest. 

21. The Bird detaching a piece of the Mortar. 

22. The Cockatoo 

23. The Eagle seeking his Prey. . * 

24. A Lesson for Bad Mothers. * 

25. Combination among the Swallows. 

26. The Raven fights for the Wine. . 

27. The Crisis. 

28. Love in a Cage 



2 

6 

7 
ic 

19 
21 

23 

28 

40 

42 

49 

5i 

56 

78 

83 

94 

96 

100 

102 

104 

118 

129 

141 

142 

147 

153 

156 



V1U LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGB 

29. Goose Attachment . . .160 

30. A Goose Acting as Guide 162 

31. The Drake leading the Lady to the Rescue. . . . 169 

32. The Bear tending her Young. . , . . .177 

33. Rats following an Army 207 

34. Rats attacking the Spirit Casks. 2 1 1 

35. The Hare running in a Straight Line. The Rabbit Doubling 

Back , . . 221 

36. Beaver building a Wall 226 

27. The Camel about to be Loaded. 231 

38. The two Rivals 235 

39. Stag endeavoring to deceive the Hounds 243 

40. The Elephant protecting a Dog. 264 

41. The Elephant acting as a Nurse. . . . . . 265 

42. The Elephant rescuing a Soldier. 267 

43. The Elephant becomes a Courtier 269 

44. Fidelity of a troop of Bavarian Horses 279 

45. A Musical Connoisseur 287 

46. Wolves attacking a Flock 305 

47. A Fox trying the Ice. . . .. . . 315 

48. The Shoeblack's Dog. ....... 337 

49. The Dog at the Convent Door 338 

50. Vaillant Rescuing the Blind Dog. 342 

51. Moffino's Return from Russia 346 

52. The Fishing Dog 348 

53. The Dogs and their Dead Master. ..... 351 

54. Chimpanzee at Table. . . . . . . . 367 




PREFACE. 



The marvels of animal intelligence claim now, more than 
ever, the attention of observers. Without admitting, like 
some people, that we come from a quadruped ; without 
approving the beast worship of the Egyptians; we believe 
that most animals which crawl or walk on the earth, or fly 
in the air, form communities like ourselves. We believe 
that the lower animals possess, in a certain degree, the 
faculties of man, and that our inferior brothers, as Francis 
of Assisi calls them, preceded us on the earth. We agree 
with Montaigne, Reaumur, La Fontaine, George Leroy, and 
Frederick Cuvier, in the intelligence of animals \ we admit, 
with Cabanis, that there exists an intimate connection 
between the organisation and the intellectual faculties ; 
and, with Gall, that the intelligence principally operates 
through the brain. We do not believe that the habits, 
industry, and art of animals remain immutable. Has it 
not been observed, times out of number, that old animals 
are more cunning than young ones ? The little bird which 
builds its nest for the first time fashions it and places it 



X PREFACE. 

badly. By degrees it perfects its work, so that the nest 
leaves nothing to be desired — the artist has attained the 
ideal. It is thus that, by the repeated exercise of the 
memory, combined with reflection, the animal improves 
itself. The bird of prey teaches its little ones to fly in 
the air, to balance themselves there, to keep themselves 
immovable, to slacken or quicken their flight, to calculate 
distances, and to pounce down upon the victim. Look, 
also, at the swallows, when about to depart. The youngest, 
who have not yet undertaken the voyage, prepare them- 
selves several days before by a multiplicity of evolutions. 
After several repetitions, their parts being well known, and 
the instruction perfect, the signal is given, the large army 
flies away, well prepared by discipline for the journey. 

The wolf, so greedy of flesh, does not succeed in its 
carnivorous trade except after a long apprenticeship 

The intellectual manifestations in animals are connected 
with their organisation and their nervous system ; this is 
what we shall show, in studying the principal families of 
animals. 

It is known that the animal kingdom may be divided 
into five great orders : — 

i. Vertebrated. 

2. Articulated or annelidae. 

3. Mollusks. 

4. Radiated or zoophytes. 

5. Protozoa. 



PREFACE. XI 

Protozoa, a name taken from the Greek, signifies first 
animal, and presents the most simple organisation. Formed 
of separate cells, we do not recognise in them any distinct 
organ. 

We can understand that, in such elementary beings, it 
is difficult to find the least trace of intelligence. 

The Radiated animals owe their name to the disposition 
of their organs round a nervous centre, and are also called 
zoophytes, because they have something of the form and 
organisation of plants. Their nervous system is little de- 
veloped; and it is difficult to note intelligence in these 
beings, that have neither head nor heart, neither arms nor 
legs; in which animal life is scarcely separated from matter; 
created only to eat. The sole organ they possess is a 
stomach, an alimentary bag, sometimes divided into many 
pockets or cavities, and having only one opening to receive 
the food. 

As we go higher in the series of beings, we see near this 
stomach a brain, nerves, and delicate senses fitted for all 
functions ; so that the more perfect beings do not only live 
to eat, but also to feel, act, and exercise, more or less, their 
nervous energy. 

Among the Radiated we may consider the walk of the 
sea-star as an act of intelligence. This animal disposes its 
rays in such a manner that they suit the form of the object 
on which it crawls, whether sand, large stones, or small 
pebbles. The " star " climbs thus on the perpendicular 



XU PREFACE. 

rocks, attaching itself firmly. This sea-star discerns per- 
fectly, by the aid of touch, on what ground it finds 
itself, and the obstacles to be surmounted, and acts in 
the most intelligent manner according to circumstances. 

Thus, in the class of Radiated animals, we meet with 
the first elements of a nervous system, and the first mani- 
festations of intelligence. 

The Mollusks are known by their soft body, without an 
interior skeleton. They possess a nervous system but little 
developed, and usually composed of two parts; one over 
the food-passage, the other beneath, and joined by a mem- 
brane, which surrounds the gullet with a real nervous band. 
Some small glands are disposed round the principal organs, 
and attached to the brain by threads of communication. 
Some mollusks are gifted with organs of motion, of vision, 
and of muscular contraction. Those which are covered 
with a shell, like the oysters, are called testaceous mollusks. 

If we take the most perfect type, the cefihalopods — those 
that have the brain protected by a little cartilage that may 
be compared to a skull, and the most complete circulatory 
apparatus, we recognise in them signs of intelligence. 
Nor are the gasteropods wanting in similar faculties, as 
may be seen in the snails, which find out every night the 
fruits and plants suitable for food, although each morning 
they go far away to make their siesta till the evening. 

But it is in the class of insects, and especially of 
hymenopterous insects, that we find proofs of intelligence. 



PREFACE. 



Xlll 



So we shall not seriously begin our study till we come to 
these little beings. Their body is symmetrical, composed, 
in the greater number, of a succession of joints or rings, to 
hold the intestines. .As their forms are best developed, so 
their nervous system is equally energetic. They possess a 
/brain, nervous chords round the gullet, and a series of 
glands below the intestinal canal. The animal and in- 
tellectual life ought to be the more elevated, as it 
abounds in nervous and sensitive elements. "We note 
in these animals," says Reaumur, "as much as in any of 
the others, proceedings which lead us to believe in their 
having a certain degree of intelligence." Other naturalists 
have pretended that, in this respect, these insects surpass 
all other animals. 

The forms of life in insects agree with the one great 
plan of organisation, and though very different from animals 
with a more complex system, do not differ from the general 
type of organised beings. The forces which organise a 
mite's body are not smaller, according to Reaumur, than 
those required by an elephant's structure. We ought not 
to have needed philosophy to teach us that great and small 
are only words of comparison with respect to ourselves. 
The structure of microscopic insects is often more admirable 
than that in animated masses of colossal size. The produc- 
tion of insects seems then to require as many energies and 
as high a mechanism as that of the larger animals. In 
some respects insects have the superiority. In all the 



^^^^™ 



XIV PREFACE. 



large animals there are only two eyes. The common fly 
has eight thousand ; and some have counted twenty-five 
thousand in certain butterflies. Each of these organs pre- 
sents, though in microscopic proportions, the greater part of 
the divisions which are found in the composition of our eye. 
Closely crowded together, these eyes make up for immova- 
bility by quantity. Their mass is such, that in certain flies 
they occupy nearly the whole of the head, and even equal 
in weight one-fourth of the body. The shape and colour 
of these eyes are not less various or less remarkable, 
corresponding, undoubtedly, with modifications in the 
sense of seeing. Insects which seek their food during the 
night have eyes formed to receive the few rays of light 
which meet them. In the carnivorous insects they are 
larger. Certain aquatic species show sometimes several 
pairs of eyes. Some are directed upwards, others down, 
so that, while swimming on the water, the animal sees 
the fish which threatens him, or the bird which is ready 
to pounce upon him. Others have three little eyes, 
arranged in the form of a triangle, on their heads, making 
three powerful microscopes. We find these eyes in insects 
inhabiting dimly-lighted places, or living in nests. They 
must be able to perceive the smallest objects when exceed- 
ingly near. 

Insects possess a very delicate sense of smell. The 
slightest odours strike them at the greatest distances. 
Distant honey attracts bees. We see them going far to 



PREFACE. XV 

seek the flowers which inclose it. The fly smells from 
afar the meat fitted to yield it food. 

Each insect knows perfectly how to recognise what 
agrees with it. Those who eat jalap, or other drugs, 
take the nutritive part, showing great care not to touch 
that which is purging. 

Cuvier and Dumeril place the seat of smelling in the 
small openings, in the shape' of a button-hole, called stig- 
mata, by which the air is introduced into the breathing 
tubes. There is here, says Mr. Pouchet, a manifest analogy 
to the situation of the nose, which is placed, in the large 
animals, at the entrance of the breathing apparatus. De 
Blainville thought that this sense is in the antennas, little 
movable horns found in front of the head. Indeed, these, 
like the nostrils of the large animals, contain the first pair 
of nerves which come from the brain. Some experiments 
made by Duges tend to demonstrate that it is really these 
antennae which represent the organ of smelling. After 
cutting them off butterflies and flies, these insects could no 
longer go in search of their food. 

We must acknowledge that the insect's ear is not 
anatomically known, but we ought not to doubt its exist- 
ence, for many insects produce noises by means of which 
they call and reply to each other. 

It appears that touch is seated in the antennas. It 
suffices to see an insect go out of his hole and explore its 
environs with his antennae to be convinced of this fact. It 



XVI PREFACE. 

is by the help of these organs that insects seem to measure 
bodies, try to lift them, and ascertain if they are too heavy, 
too hot, or too cold. 

We have insisted on the wonderful organisation of 
insects in order to suggest their intellectual aptitudes. 
Camper admitted that the more animals had the facial 
angle acute, the lower was their intelligence. Wite has 
rendered this principle obvious by figuring the heads of a 
long series of the vertebrated, from man to the crane, in 
which the extreme lengthening of the face corresponds with 
its intellectual inferiority. Mr. Pouchet thinks that we 
might execute a similar work for insects. At the be- 
ginning of the list would be found, according to this 
naturalist, the carnivorous beetles ; at the bottom of the 
scale the timid weevils, with slender, elongated mouths, 
which would correspond perfectly with the cranes. After 
many observations, we conclude that the most intelligent 
insects are the hymenoptera, bees and ants ; and think 
that if any one compares the size of an ant's head with its 
body, Camper's law would be confirmed. The insect, the 
ant, above all, is as well organised in the brain as the 
greater part of animals. We shall, then, commence our 
study with the ants. 




THE 



INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



ANTS. 

THEIR ACTIVITY, INDUSTRY, HABITS, LANGUAGE, AND 
GOVERNMENT. 

The intelligence of the ants has been a subject of remark 
for many ages. The old biographer Plutarch relates the 
observations made on these insects by the Greek philo- 
sopher Cleanthes, three hundred years before the Christian 
era. The French philosopher and essayist Montaigne 
describes their wonderful means of mutual communication 
without the aid of speech. 

Their organisation is, indeed, very remarkable. The 
head is large ; the jaw strong ; the antennae long and 
delicate ; the feet small, and furnished with claws, by 
which they cling to objects ; the body light, without orna- 
ment, or any means of protection. The ants, when hatched, 
are completely naked; but they have good nurses, who 
lavish on them the most assiduous care, bestow upon them 
the most tender caresses, expose them to the sun in warm 
weather, and keep them in the cells when it becomes cold. 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



The ants make up for the weakness of their bodies by the 
swiftness of their feet, the fineness of their touch, and the 
number of their eyes, which inform them of approaching 
danger. They possess a powerful acid, which is ejected 
against foes, and, in some species, will even blacken or 
burn the trees on which these insects make their nests. 
They have a government, too, which is a pure democracy, 
and seems to realise the political 
dreams of Plato, or those of Sir 
Thomas More. Of course, in this 
insect republic the property belongs 
equally to all ; even the babies are 
claimed by the state. The whole 
community forms a brotherhood, 
and no individual is distinguished 
by aught save ardent love for the 
public good. 

The females are at all times sur- 
rounded by a respectful court, are 
even carried in triumph when fa- 
tigued, and nourished with the 
richest food. But they have no 
influence at all in the politics of 
the state, and are quite content 
with being the mothers of a powerful community. These 
ladies are thus honoured while living ; and Huber de- 
clares that they are even buried with an extraordinary 
display of ant magnificence. All governing power rests in 
the mass of the society. 

These facts prove, surely, intelligence in the ants. We 
think it needless to speak of the instincts or sagacity of the 
female workers, which are wood-cutters, carpenters, and 




Ants, winged and wingless 

(workers;. 



ANTS. 3 

purveyors ; or to reproduce the excellent description given 
by Huber of the ants' nests. 

However, we will give some account of the ash-coloured 
ants, which construct their nests differently from all other 
species. Their work is, indeed, simple, compared with the 
ingenuity of the red or meadow ants ; but they, at least, 
build like intelligent apprentices. Their hill is formed of 
a dome of earth, closed entirely, except at the bottom, 
where it is entered by a long and winding gallery, hidden 
in the earth at some distance from the nest. 

"If they wish to raise the house higher," says Victor 
Rendu, "they begin by covering the top with a layer of earth 
drawn from the interior. In this stratum they then trace 
the plan of another story. First, one of the ants digs little 
furrows at unequal distances, but nearly of the same depth. 
The solid ridges of earth between the minute excavations 
serve as foundations for the inner walls, which form par- 
titions for the various working chambers connected with 
them. The excavated earth is used for constructing the 
ceiling. When the cells have been formed in the trenches, 
the architect has only to finish the roof. One worker begins 
to take away the earth; she makes a furrow, which by 
degrees becomes a lane, on each side of which is a bank. 
This lane forms at last a sort of path, leading to the gal- 
lery, at the bottom of the nest. When this is finished, 
another ant begins another gallery, which is also near to 
the apartments of the nest. The ants which thus trace 
the plan of a wall, apartment, gallery, or avenue, work each 
one by itself; and sometimes it happens, in consequence, 
that the different parts of the structure do not agree one 
with the other. One arch, for instance, is closed up ; or is 
too low for the wall to which it should be joined ; some- 

B 2 



^^^^^^^™ 



4 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

times it is only half the height it should be. Such an 
obstacle appears insurmountable for such a feeble insect. 
The ash-coloured ants are not startled at this ; one ant 
passes, sees the error, destroys the road commenced, raises 
the wall on which the path should rest, and makes a new 
road, which this time, constructed by an experienced work- 
man, fulfils perfectly all the conditions. Is not this an act 
of comparison, of judgment, and of intelligence ?" 

" It is when the ant commences such an enterprise," 
says Huber, " that we see she thinks while she works, and 
realises her ideas in her work. When one of these insects 
sees on the nest two little bits of grass, which cross one 
another, and which would serve for the construction of a 
cell, or when she sees several small sticks of angular shape, 
she examines all these things, and then places a little earth 
in each of the spaces and along the sides of the sticks with 
great skill, without paying any attention to the work that 
others may have sketched already. So much is she ruled 
by the idea that she has conceived, and which she carries 
out without distraction, that she goes, comes, and returns, 
until her idea is understood by the others ; then all work 
together in common to carry out the plan which one has 
commenced. The first ant which conceives a plan sketches 
it ; the others have only to continue the work commenced. 
At the inspection of the first works, the insects judge which 
they will undertake ; they know how to sketch, continue, 
polish, or complete their work, according to circumstances. 
Their teeth-like jaws serve for cutting tools, their antennae 
for instruments of measurement ; and their front feet are the 
trowels with which they mix the mortar, apply, spread, and 
fix it as solid cement." 

Dr. Ebrard, an author of keen observation on the habits 



ANTS. 5 

of the ant, was one day witness of the stratagem of a 
black ant, which showed the most ingenious calculation on 
the part of the insect. " One day," says he, " I saw on the 
summit of an ant-hill an entire sketch of a new story in 
construction. It was a series of galleries, formed by two 
parallel walls, half covered and intersected by numerous 
and unfinished cells. The upper parts of the party walls 
in these little rooms projected inwards about one-tenth of 
an inch, leaving spaces between, about seven-tenths of an 
inch wide, uncovered. The black ants do not fetch bits of 
sticks or grass, neither do they construct pillars. How did 
they contrive, then, to finish covering in the cells before 
the materials forming the arches fell by their own weight ? 
The soil was wet, and the work in full force. It was a 
constant running to and fro of ants, coming from their 
subterraneous dwelling, and carrying particles of earth, 
which they adapted to the old constructions. Concen- 
trating my attention on the largest cell, I saw that only 
one ant worked there ; the work advanced, nevertheless. 
In spite of a projection inside, between the upper part of 
the walls there still remained a space of about half an 
inch to cover in. This was the time to support the earth 
of the roof by little pillars, beams, or the remnants of dried 
leaves ; but the black ants never have recourse to any of 
these means, it is not in their nature to employ them. The 
solitary ant left her work for a moment, and went to a corn- 
stalk a little distance off. She ran up and down several 
long and narrow leaves, then choosing the leaf nearest to 
her, she fetched wet earth, which she fixed at the upper 
extremity. She continued this operation until, under the 
weight of earth, the leaf inclined gently towards the spot 
it was necessary to cover. This inclination took place, 



6 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

unfortunately, near the top of the leaf, which seemed 
inclined to break off. The ant, noticing this new incon- 
venience, gnawed the leaf at the bottom, so that it fell 
down full length over the unfinished cell. This was not 
enough ; the position was not right. The worker arranged 
it properly by putting earth between the base of the plant 
and that of the leaf, until the leaf fell sufficiently low. The 
desired end obtained, she used the leaf as -a buttress to 




The Ant bending a corn-leaf 

support the materials with which she intended to form the 
arch/' 

After these different observations, which give us in- 
contestable proof of the intelligence of the ants, we will 
ask you, candid reader, to allow us to tell you what w r e 
have seen with our own eyes. It was in the latter end of 
May, when the cockchafers, after having devoured the 
leaves of the trees, began to die on the roads, and be- 
came the prey of beetles and ants. I was walking with 
one of my friends, a lover of natural history, when we 
saw some ants actively occupied round a wing of a cock- 



AXTS. 7 

chafer. "What were they doing? You will hear. They 
were pulling the wing towards a little hole, which was 
certainly too small to admit it. How could they manage 
the matter, then ? They were obliged to think. The ants 
are never embarrassed. It is very probable, however, that 
they had never before encountered such an obstacle ; that 
what they were obliged to do now was not a matter of 
habit. They began to direct one of the extremities of 
the wing towards the little gallery of their home. Three 
of them, judging that the thing could not go alone, went 







The Ants with the Cockchafer's wing. 

into the hole, pulling the wing underneath, while the others 
pushed it from above. But. vain effort ! the wing would not 
enter. What could they do ? Must they abandon such a 
great prize ? Xo ; the ants are as courageous as they are 
intelligent. Without losing confidence in their activity and 
their genius, they renounced their first idea. They placed 
the wing against one of the partitions of the opening, and 
went into the nest on the other side of the wing. They no 
doubt thought what it would be necessary to do. They 
then resolved, full of activity, to enlarge the gallery. Each 
one descended in turn, bringing a particle of earth, which 
she placed at the side of the opening. They worked so 



8 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

well, that in less than half an hour the opening was half 
as large again. It was nearly three-tenths of an inch in 
diameter, and the wing was three parts pushed in. No 
doubt in a little time the wing will be completely in ; 
when, lo ! behold, another ant arrived, pulling, triumphantly 
and alone, another insect. Her sisters saw her, went to 
meet her, and dragged the insect towards the opening, 
where the wing of the cockchafer was still waiting. They 
slipped along the wing as if it were an inclined plane. Two 
or three descended, dragging the insect by the head. One 
minute afterwards it had disappeared. The ants, happy and 
proud of their success, returned to the wing of the cock- 
chafer. They tried for some time to make it enter by force, 
but it was impossible. Then an ant took it in his mouth, 
carried it outside the hole, and his sisters began to work 
again. They ran up and down the particles of earth they 
had taken away from the partition to make the passage 
larger. Some of them, in a great hurry, took the wing, 
and pulled it again towards them. It nearly enters, when 
something intervenes. The bottom of the opening was, 
without doubt, not quite large enough. Some did all they 
could to pull at the top ; others push to the right, others to 
the left, to make it enter more easily. It was, however, 
necessary to abandon this proceeding, or take away the 
obstacle. The ants took the wing out again, and removed, 
with renewed ardour, all that appeared to be in their way. 
A third time they tried to get the wing in. A new difficulty 
arose — a storm, which swamped the earth. I do not know 
if it were by chance or by calculation that the wing, which 
was upside down, and by this time once more over the 
opening, served as a shelter to the ants, who continued 
their work. At last, at nearly six o'clock in the evening, 



ANTS. 9 

after working for three hours and a half with patience, 
intelligence, and great effort, the hole was large enough, 
and the wing went to the bottom of the nest. Will any- 
one, after this, say that these insects are accustomed to 
such work, that they have executed it by instinct, without 
reasoning, without calculation, without reflection, and 
without intelligence? We must have less judgment than 
the ants themselves to think of them in this way. 

A last example will show us how much the develop- 
ment of a sense can aid the intelligence. The ants, we 
know, are guided by their touch and by their sense of 
smell, which is situated principally in the antennae. Stop 
the ants in their course, disperse them to right and left, 
and they seem to be embarrassed, not knowing what to 
do. They go back to the spot whence they started, sound- 
ing the earth with their antennae ; then, when they have 
examined the spot, they retrace their steps, recover and 
pursue their road. Is it not by the fineness of their smell 
or the delicacy of their touch that they find their direction 
again ? An ant one day saw on the road the leg of a gold- 
beetle. She wished to drag it to the ant-hill, which was a 
difficult task, as she was alone, all the others being, doubt- 
less, occupied at other business. The distance was not very 
great, it is true ; it was only half a yard that she had to go ; 
but the road was rough, difficult, covered with stones and 
little lumps of earth. To tell you all the troubles this little 
ant encountered would be impossible. The smallest pro- 
jection was to her a mountain. Sometimes she went round 
the stones in her way, at other times she was forced to 
creep over them. Nevertheless, she arrived almost at the 
top of one of the little hillocks, when her prey slipped from 
her, and rolled down again ; and the poor ant, vexed but 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



not discouraged, was obliged to go after it. Then, like 
a hound, she went here and there, seeming to sniff the air 
and feel the earth. After a little time she regained her 
prize. Just think of the patience and courage of these little 
insects. It was not until after two hours' work, and over 
many obstacles, that she arrived at the ant-hill, which was 
in the grass near the road. There our ant found help ; 
many of her companions ran to her aid, and m a short time, 




The Ant carrying the Beetle's leg, 

in spite of the net-work of weeds, the leg of the gold-beetle 
arrived entire at the ant-hill. 

It is also by the contact of the antennae that the ant 
knows a friend from an enemy. By particular signs, under- 
stood by all the inhabitants of the same nest, they avoid 
mistakes. This is known by experiment. We give an 
example. Take away the ants from a hill, and put them 
back again after a certain time into their nest. The first 
feeling of these emigrants in returning to the cell is that 
of uneasiness. They wish to escape, but flight is not 



ANTS. 1 1 

easy in such a noisy crowd, which goes, comes, and circu- 
lates in all parts of the ant-hill. The first workers they 
meet, seem to ask them for the watchword. They then 
touch each other's antennae, and thus exchange signs. It 
is well j they understand one another. The exiles belong 
to that country ; their agitation ceases ; they penetrate with 
confidence into the native labyrinth, where they are received 
as sisters who have been believed lost. " Now let us," says 
M. Rendu, " make the reverse experiment. Introduce 
into the ant-hill some ants of the same species, but of 
another nest, and other signs than those we have men- 
tioned will be noted. The same preliminaries are observed, 
but the question by means of the antennae, instead of 
assuring the intruders, only increases their fright and their 
hurry to flee. They do not belong to that nest. The hue 
and cry commences ; the warning is given ; they are furi- 
ously chased. Woe be to them if they are caught ! The 
furious multitudes grasp the feet, the bodies, and the an- 
tennae of the intruders, and drag them by force to the 
interior of the cavern. When by chance some ants of 
another tribe venture to make an unlawful incursion into 
the nest of others, their lives are exposed to great danger. 
An infuriated chase commences ; they are assailed on all 
sides by combatants, who are reinforced at each instant. 
If the ants know how to defend themselves courageously 
against strangers, in their family they show the most in- 
telligent brotherly feeling. 'Who does not know that the 
ants feed one another? The worker is often too much 
occupied to fetch her own food. When she is hungry 
she tells one of her companions, by striking rapidly with 
her antennae. The purveyor instantly approaches, and 
pours food into the mouth of the hungry ant. The worker 



12 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

gives thanks, caresses the friend with her antennae, and 
strokes her head with the front feet. Is not this intelli- 
gence? or more, is it not family love ?" 

It is well known that the red ant sometimes renounces 
her subterranean dwelling-place to live in the trunks of old 
trees. She there cuts her cells as the black ant would, 
builds her nest several stories high, which are supported 
sometimes by little columns, sometimes on thin partitions. 

The red ant, then, remarks M. Rendu, cultivates two 
distinct professions. She raises herself, if she pleases, to 
the difficult art of sculpture, or descends to the modest 
trade of a mason ; she does not think she demeans herself 
by changing the chisel of the artist for the trowel of the 
workman, when necessity enforces her to do so. This 
necessity, in all beings, is the most lively stimulant of the 
intelligence. Many species of ants in America have, under 
the influence of that beautiful climate, acquired the art of 
making honey. Our ants, deprived of this faculty, have 
been obliged to have recourse to the grubs, which they 
rear, guard, and store up to supply future wants. But if 
we prove that the intelligence of animals and of men is 
specially stimulated by want, we must acknowledge that 
when the want is satisfied the intelligence often declines. 
This has been the fate of conquering nations, who fell in 
consequence of too great refinement and abuse of power. 
Certain tribes of conquering ants seem to have suffered in 
the same way. The great red ants, named amazons, with 
long legs, having a rude and soldier-like gait, attack the 
black ants, carrying away the young female workers, and 
treating them as slaves." They are obliged to nurse the 
larvae, and thus aid the -society of their captors, because 
the amazons have no plebeian ants which would form the 



ANTS. 



13 



working class, composed of laborious female workers, who 
nurse all the younger ants for the good of the republic, and 
do all the work of the little city. The origin of these red 
ants has much exercised the sagacity of learned men. 

" There is, then," says Michelet, " a mystery that can 
scarcely be explained now ; but the general history of the 
species, its migrations and its changes, if it could be written 
from the commencement, would probably make all clear. 
Who does not know how animals change, outwardly 
and inwardly, in their forms and manners, by constant 
removals? Some species make progress, others go back; 
and it is thus, says a clever author, that I should explain 
this slave-hunting habit of the red ants. They would not 
live two days unless they added others to their number. 
They then, rather than perish, steal the black ants, who 
nurse the young of their captors, it is true, but, at the same 
time, govern them. And this takes place not only in the 
city, but outside also ; the black ants decide the expeditions, 
or adjourn them ; directing even the wars, while the red 
ants, far from arranging the most simple matters in time of 
peace, do not even seem to understand them. This is a 
singular triumph of intelligence." 



SPIDERS. 



THE HABITS AND INTELLIGENCE OF THE MYGALE. — THE 
SILK-SPINNING SPIDER. — CUNNING OF THE SPIDER IN 
CATCHING ITS PREY. 



The arachnida — - named from the Greek arachm, a 
spider — are distinguished particularly from the articulated* 
animals ; nevertheless, the class is far from being a very 
simple one. Great differences exist in the organisation of 
the various orders of which it is composed. It is also 
impossible to explain, in general terms, what the in- 
telligence of the arachnida resembles. But it is known 
that they possess a nervous system, variable in its develop- 
ment in the different orders, but attaining, in general, a 
high degree of centralisation. Some arachnida are de- 
prived of the sense of sight ; but the greater part possess 
eyes, which are always simple. It is known that the 
extremities of the feet in the arachnida are perfectly 
formed for exercising the sense of touch ; but nothing is 
known respecting the other senses. In proof that the 
arachnida, and especially the scorpions, are gifted with a 
nervous system, we may note how the least prick on the 
nerve ganglions causes immediate pain. The animal seems 
unable to control itself, and appears to have lost all con- 
sciousness of its movements. The results of the experi- 

* A Latin word, signifying formed of joints. 



SPIDERS. 15 

ments made by M. Emile Blanchard is, that feeling in all 
the arachnida depends exclusively on the cerebral ganglions.* 

No trace of control over the movements is visible in 
the scorpions when these ganglions are affected ; just the 
contrary has been found in the other articulated animals in 
which the nervous system has not attained the same degree 
of centralisation. Amongst the arachnida, the araneides, 
or spiders proper, may be mentioned as one of the most 
natural divisions, and the best characterised of the entire 
animal kingdom. 

The species of this zoological group having become very 
numerous, a necessity has been felt of establishing sub- 
divisions among the arachnida, and giving more attention 
to their characters, than had before been the case. This 
work was commenced by the celebrated entomologist 
Latreille, but it was soon found necessary to arrange these 
animals after a peculiar method, to make the specific de- 
scriptions easy. Walcknaer — a name justly honoured by 
entomologists, by the learned, and by geographers — found 
in the arrangements of the spiders' eyes, and in the nature 
of their web, the means of establishing secondary divisions, 
for the most part natural enough. 

In the classification of Walcknaer, all the species of the 
genus arenea\ formed a large group, which he called ara- 
neides, since adopted in all zoological works. Amongst this 
group of spiders, we will describe the mygale,J whose 
industry and intelligence are so remarkable. 

The mygale not only possesses a well-organised brain, 

* A ganglion is a small roundish mass of nervous matter. 
t The Latin name for the spider. 

% Ancient name for a shrew-mouse ; now given to a genus of 
spiders, which often form their nests in the ground like mice. 



1 6 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

but is also gifted with certain organs of sense really won- 
derful, which admirably aid its industry and intelligence. 

The eyes of the my gale are eight in number, forming 
four pairs. They are all placed on a round eminence. The 
usefulness of the elevation on which the eyes are situated 
is evident ; for thus the spiders see in every direction. 
These eyes are not all of the same size, or the same 
shape. There are two in the middle, two principal ones, 
larger than the others, and nearly round, on the top of 
the eye-stalk; the others are placed on the side. In all 
her arrangements, nature has one end— -a marvellous adapta- 
tion to manners, special habits, and the life proper to each 
kind of animal. Thus, the silk of the silkworms is em- 
ployed by them to one use, for a defence and protection 
during the time they exist in the chrysalis form. But the 
silk of the spider, says M. Emile Blanchard, has various 
uses. This delicate spun substance may be employed to 
carpet the creature's dwelling ; to make its nests inacces- 
sible ; to form the threads for trapping living prey ; to serve 
for cables or for ladders, down which the spiders descend 
from great heights ; to envelop the eggs, and thus defend 
them from the attacks of animals. 

In the south of Europe, and also in the south of 
France, there are found spiders large in body, but very 
poor in silk. But these use well their small stock ; not 
being rich enough to construct dwellings of silk, these 
mygales make tubes in the earth of diameters suited to 
the size of their bodies, and as the walls would be rough, 
they are adorned with hangings of the most beautiful silk, 
so soft that the inhabitant feels no friction when rubbing 
against such tapestry. This is not all ; if the retreat re- 
mained open at the surface, the mygale might easily be 



SPIDERS. 17 

seized by some hungry animal. This spider, therefore, 
makes a solid door with the earth thrown out in hollowing 
the tube. The door is cone-shaped, so as not to be pushed 
in by a pressure from without. On the outside it is un- 
even, like the soil ; but inside it is carefully covered with 
a silky web. To a door you must necessarily have a 
hinge, and a lock or a bolt are often wanted ; the mygale 
knows how to provide for all these necessities. The hinge 
is formed with such tough silk that it can offer a resistance 
surpassing belief. A semicircle of little holes, very regularly 
placed on the side opposite to the hinge, forms a kind of 
bolt. See what intelligence this spider shows when any 
one tries to open the door ; she drives her claws into the 
little holes, pulls down with all her might, and thus defends 
her domicile. When the mygale wishes to go a-hunting, 
she pushes up the door, and lets it fall down again ; on 
her return, she draws up the door with her claws, and 
re-enters. This is very like what is now done in many 
towns in the north of France, by the tenants of those 
lodgings where the door opens on the footpath. 

Many spiders use silk for making tubes, or lurking- 
places, where they watch for their prey, or for fortresses 
to secure themselves from foes. 

M. Blanchard has called attention to a wonderful use 
of silk by the water-spiders. These differ little in appear- 
ance and general structure from their more common rela- 
tions. They make their homes in streams, but live much 
in the air. How is this managed? The spider forms a 
house of silk, which is a true diving-bell. This singular 
home is about the size of a thimble, is secured to some 
weed growing on the rivulet's bank, and there the spider 
lurks. This silk diving-bell has a white and glistening 

c 



1 8 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

appearance, like silver. The inhabitant is, therefore, called 
argyronete, from two words, denoting " a spinner of silver." 

Every one notices, and few can help admiring, the mag- 
nificent webs of the common garden-spider. The art with 
which they are formed is wonderful. The ancients, who 
examined these works, understood all their beauty, and 
invented the pretty fable of Arachne.* The web was so 
perfect, that its author seemed capable of rivalling a god- 
dess. The spider, when about to construct the web, places 
a thread cross-ways between two branches, then arranges 
other threads beneath, which look as regular as if traced 
on a frame. From the horizontal thread the spider spins a 
vertical thread in a downward direction, and the centre of 
the .work having been thus settled, the radiating lines are 
formed. Other threads are then spun, and the concentric 
circles constructed with a beautiful and wonderful regularity. 

These threads are not all of the same kind. Those 
which compose the large transverse cord, the vertical cord, 
and the rays, are made of a silk which becomes dry the 
moment it comes out of the spider's body. On the con- 
trary, those which form the circles are made of a silk which 
is highly elastic and glutinous — most important properties, 
because the threads thus completely adhere to the rays. 
These same spiders produce silk destined to form cocoons, 
in which to envelope the eggs. This silk is sometimes quite 
different from that of which the web is composed. While 
the web threads are white, this cocoon silk is of a fine golden 
colour. The three kinds of silk are secreted by three kinds 
of glands, each secreting a particular silk. The cobwebs 

* Arachne, proud of her spinning, challenged Minerva to a trial of 
skill, and being defeated, killed herself. The pitying goddess turned 
the body of poor Arachne into a spider. 



SPIDERS. 



r 9 



of our garden-spiders give an incomplete idea of some of 
the threads spun by other species of the same genus. In 
the hottest countries of the world — in Madagascar, in the 
Isle of Bourbon, in the Mauritius, in India, and in the 
greater portion of Polynesia — there are spiders which, 
construct webs of gigantic dimensions. They throw their 
filmy lines across streams, fastening them to the trees on 
each side. Travellers say that where these spiders are nume- 




Web Lines spanning a Stream. 

rous, their webs, thus thrown across rivers, produce a most 
striking effect in the landscape. Explorers of Madagascar, 
or the Isle of Bourbon, have observed a species which con- 
structs its webs somewhat like those of the garden-spider; 
but there was one important peculiarity : there was in the 
centre a thick silvery cord or thread, twisted so as to present 
a series of zigzag folds. The fact having been stated, nobody 
could doubt the peculiar use of this thick thread. A few 
years later a young naturalist, Dr. Vinson, attached to 
the Madagascar mission, made some interesting observations 

c 2 



20 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

on these webs. He often passed whole hours in observing 
the spider, whose mode of construction was so singular, 
asking himself what could be the use of this large cord, a 
real cable compared to the other threads? Each day he 
repaired to some of these webs to study them. One day 
some flies came and threw themselves on the threads ; 
quickly the spider flung itself on its prey, throwing out some 
of the light threads, and enveloping the flies. The cable 
did not move. The observer broke it three or four different 
times ; the spider, each time, made a new cable. One day 
a large grasshopper precipitated himself into the middle of 
this net. The light threads would not have been strong 
enough to keep such a victim. Mark, now, a proof of in- 
telligence. As soon as possible the spider threw himself on 
his great cable, and rolled round the grasshopper with the 
greatest rapidity. That no doubt might remain, our observer 
returned on the following days to the same place, being 
determined to make experiments. He took care to furnish 
himself with large insects ; and, throwing them into the 
spider's web, the same manoeuvre was constantly repeated. 
The use of the thread was now discovered : to hold strong 
insects. 

Many have thought, for a long time, of utilising the web 
of the spider; but it is difficult to obtain a sufficient quantity. 
The ordinary thread is ninety times thinner than that of 
the silkworm, and, therefore, it is necessary to have 1,800 
spiders' threads, according to Reaumur, to make a service- 
able tissue. This circumstance prevents the industrial use, 
to any considerable value, of the silk of spiders. However, 
M. Lebon, president of the parliament of Montpellier, in 
1709, made some stockings and gloves, of a pretty grey 
colour, for Louis XIV., from this silk. M. d'Orbigny made, 



SPIDERS. 



21 



from the threads of a species of American spider, a pair 
of drawers, which lasted a long time. Travellers tell us 
that, in equatorial countries, spiders' webs are seen which 
have so much strength that they catch the humming-birds. 
It is even said that men break the webs with difficulty. 




The American Geometrical Spider and Web. 

But let us return to the intelligence of these crea- 
tures. It is in the means they employ for seizing their 
prey that spiders display all" their resources. The wall- 
spider lies down in a crack, and there, after watching a 
fly, springs upon it with one bound, rarely missing, so 
quick and sure is the jump. Another species watches on a 



2 2 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

tree for caterpillars near the opening of the nest, and as 
soon as one comes near, the spider seizes it, sucks it quickly, 
and then throws the body away. But that which denotes 
spider intelligence most, is the making of their webs. 
Certain spiders set up a circular network, with loose meshes 
for small flies ; others form stronger tissues, with more solid 
woofs, to hold larger flies. In the first network, the threads 
of the woof are stronger, and twisted, radiating from the 
centre to the circumference ; other threads, more slender, 
are placed circularly. By this geometrical disposition, the 
spider, keeping to the centre, will feel, better thai anywhere 
else, the least movement at the circumference. This, ac- 
cording to Virey, is what Schmid, a learned German 
mathematician, proved, who published a work in which he 
shows that spiders, like bees, display the most transcendant 
geometry. But what is most wonderful is the lodging in 
which the spider keeps himself on the look-out. It is a 
real circular tunnel, with a double outlet, and a double use. 
The entrance is horizontal, the outlet is perpendicular. It 
is from the former that the hunter throws himself on his 
prey ; the other performs the office of a secret cell. 

The spider takes the greatest care never to leave at the 
entrance the corpses of which he has sucked the blood ; 
this charnel-house would frighten its living food. Each time 
a fly has been immolated, it is dragged into a canal, and 
thrown into the lower opening. When we look at the floor 
of the den, we are surprised at the number of the spider's 
victims. Sometimes this hidden opening serves for a way 
of escape when danger is near ; but this is a rare case. Its 
special use, its only destination, says M. Pouchet, who 
claims the honour of this discovery, is to receive the wreck 
of the spider's repast. 



BEES. 



ESPECIALLY THE MASON-BEE. 



The custom of living in society is, in animals, a sign of 
intelligence. We have already observed this in the ants. 
The bees will furnish us with other proofs. These little 
creatures form, like man, regular and permanent societies, 
construct cities, establish divers orders in the state, emigrate, 
and even found colonies. 

We are surprised when we see little animals execute 
such beautiful works, because we forget 
that the little or the large are only 
relative to man, who makes himself 
the centre of all the worlds, and the 
measure of all beings. 

Nature surprises us, says Swam- 
merdam, by the greatness of the works 
she has produced, displaying, so to 
speak, all her power in them. But 
incomprehensible when, in the smallest insect, she con- 
centrates her powers in one point. We never more admire 
animals called perfect (those man thinks most like to him- 
self) than when we dissect their smallest parts. They show 
that in a living mass all is organised, all is living ; and in 
this sense the small is the great. Minute beauty is every- 
where ; it penetrates the whole of nature, and becomes an 
object worthy of philosophy. 

After the works of Swammerdam and Moraldi, Reaumur 




The Honey-Bee. 

she is not less 



24 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

apologises for writing on' bees. With much more reason 
ought we to abstain from writing, after the magnificent 
discoveries of Schirach, Huber, John Hunter, and Dzier- 
zon. We shall say nothing of the architectural wonders 
of these animals, so often described, nor of the cares of 
the workers for the little larvae. What we shall inquire 
for is the intellectual manifestations in these insects, The 
bees come nearest the ants by their intelligence. Their 
government of a hive has long excited admiration. The 
results obtained by the bees, with instruments of extreme 
simplicity, astonish by their perfection. Is this skill at 
every instant to be called only instinct — this singular 
distribution of work,- this admirable policy, which submits 
all to Law, and provides for a crowd of eventualities which 
could not have been foreseen ? 

Bees show feelings- of uneasiness, hatred, and anger, 
direct their actions according to circumstances, know how 
to use stratagems against enemies stronger than themselves, 
and adjust their means of defence to the attack. Amongst 
the honey producers some families only build new nests 
when they cannot find any old ones ; and if one is found, 
it is put in order. The Xylocopes* do not hollow out holes 
in wood till they have explored the old cavities near. They 
often live in the dwellings, of former generations of insects 
of their kind, thus dispensing with all useless labour. We 
have other proofs of intelligence still more conclusive. We 
know that the honey-combs do not touch each other, a 
space of nearly half an inch separating them ; these are 
the streets of the city, where two bees can pass at a 
time. Besides these large roads of communication other 

* Wood-borers. 



BEES. 25 

openings, nearly round, like little, doors always open, pass 
through the honey-combs, to avoid the necessity of a long 
circuit in getting from one comb to another, or to different 
parts of the hive. These passages, like the combs, are not 
all made of the same shape, the bees accommodating them- 
selves to places and circumstances. We find hives in which 
the combs all run parallel with each other, which is generally 
the case ; in others, the combs, which occupy a part of the 
hive from top to bottom, are parallel to each other, but 
those which fill the rest of the habitation are placed 
obliquely to the first ones. The bees, in beginning a 
second comb, often attach themselves to the opposite end 
to which the first comb was fixed. This second comb 
ought to be parallel with the first, and there -should only 
be a certain distance between them. The insects by chance 
may have mistaken their measures, and the second comb is 
too far away from the first. The bees, in order to fill part 
of the vacancy, proceed with their bad arrangement, working 
obliquely, and giving the comb an inclination, which brings 
it nearer to the other. Is this mere blind mechanism ? It 
must indeed be greater stupidity than that of the brutes 
not to see in these actions calculation, comparison, reflec- 
tion, and intelligence. 

Take another mark of intelligence, not less striking. In 
a hive a large number of cells are reserved only for pro- 
visions. The bees make these deeper than the others, they 
being sometimes eight-tenths of an inch in depth, with a 
diameter which never exceeds one-fifth of an inch. When 
the honey harvest is so abundant that the vessels are not 
sufficient to hold it, the workers abandon their usual 
mode. They lengthen the old cells, or give to the new 
larger dimensions than the ordinary ones. Their resources 



26 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

in the art of building are always equal to their wants. No 
one can reasonably say that these insects do what they have 
always done without reflection, without calculation, and 
without intelligence. 

Will men still deny that it is intelligence which guides 
the working bee in deciding whether the cells which con- 
tain the larvae are well provided with food? The worker 
visits first a certain number of cells at a time, not stopping 
till it has finished this general review. After having seen 
and examined all, the bee retraces its steps, enters one 
of the cells which does not seem sufficiently provided, and 
empties there the food which the larvae require. 

Many more intelligent acts could be mentioned. It is 
known thafe the mother bee starts with the first swarm 
thrown out by a hive in spring. While the new colony 
is busying itself preparing lodgings, building, plundering, 
working for the increase of the population, and caring for 
the race of its chief; the bees who stayed in the old hive 
form a strong guard round the royal cells, where there are 
some females in the larva state, some nymphs, and even 
some perfect though imprisoned insects. Of these not one 
will be kept captive beyond the time when she ought to 
enjoy her liberty ; neither will any of them be liberated 
before the time. They will all go out of the cells succes- 
sively, at some days' interval, according to their age. The 
law on this point is inflexible. The more efforts they 
make to liberate themselves, the more their guardians 
will watch them, rebuilding their cover as soon as they 
destroy it, and shutting up the opening each time they have 
taken their meal from the end of their nurse's trunk. Bees 
have, therefore, the power which arises from intelligence 
and will. 



BEES. 27 

Remember that at the moment of the swarming, the 
royal cells contain a number of females in the state of larvae 
or nymphs. A great many only wait their time of deliver- 
ance to seize, in their turn, upon the government. One 
queen alone must reign ; the first female who comes out 
of her prison destroys the others in their royal cells. The 
workers have recognised her quality as mother, and hinder 
her not; she therefore attacks all her rivals, one after 
another, and kills them with her dart. Huber was once 
a witness of this execution, in which the mother bee showed 
great intelligence. The queen, he says, fell upon the first 
royal cell which she saw, with eagerness. By dint of 
labour she succeeded in opening the end. " We saw her 
with her jaws tear the silk of the cocoon in which the royal 
larva was enclosed," but her efforts did not succeed as she 
wished, for she abandoned this end of the large cell, and 
went to work at the opposite extremity, where she succeeded 
in making a large opening. When she had enlarged it 
enough, she turned round and tried to get her body in. 
She made different movements in all directions, till at last 
she succeeded in giving her rival a sting. Then she re- 
moved from this cell, and the workers, who up to this time 
had been simple spectators of her work, enlarged the gap 
which she had made, and drew out the corpse of a queen, 
hardly free from her nymph's covering. During this time, 
the queen fell upon a large cell, and again made an opening, 
but she did not try to get in the extremity of her body here. 
This second cell did not contain, like the first, a fully de- 
veloped queen, it only enclosed a nymph queen. 

M. Maurice Girard, who has written an excellent 
book on the metamorphoses of insects, mentions several 
examples of the strong memory of bees. They recognise 



28 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



their hive, he says, in the midst of a crowd of others ; 
if a field is covered with flowers which they like, they return 
the year after to the same place, even though the culture is 
quite changed. 

A wandering swarm had fixed itself on the beams of a 
roof, and had there begun to build their golden combs, 




Death's Head Moth attacking the Hives. 

when the householder put them into a hive. The place first 
chosen had pleased the bees, for during eight years all the 
swarms from this hive sent some explorers to the spot. 
The memory of the locality was not only preserved in the 
little nation, but transmitted to several generations of de- 
scendants. 

Take one more instance of intelligence in bees. In 



BEES. 29 

1806, Huber, the elder, stated that the death's-head moths 
abounded, and that, greedy of honey, they entered the hives 
and broke all the combs with their great bodies, many times 
larger than that of a bee. The bees were frightened, and 
did not know what to do ; they had never before found 
such an enemy. After much reflection, they thought of 
employing the following device, which succeeded : — A thick 
bulwark of wax was raised at the entrance of all the hives 
in the neighbourhood, these small doors only allowing one 
bee to pass at a time. The greedy moths, deprived of 
offensive weapons, flew flutteringly against the obstacle, 
but could not enter. After two or three years the enemy 
returned in greater force, and immediately the bees shut 
the openings of the hives as before. 

These feeble insects have solved a problem which may 
well excite the envy of man. We do not know by what 
physiological reasoning the animals were able to understand 
the importance of nourishment in the development of phy- 
sical force, and even in the making beings fruitful which 
were not so before. This transformation, which our greatest 
doctors and our deepest observers, have not been able to 
accomplish, have been practised since the most ancient times 
by these insects. When the bees have lost their queen, 
and wish to obtain another, they choose some workers in the 
state of worms, which they nourish with a thicker, sweeter, 
and more stimulating food, called "royal jelly." The bees 
supply such a large quantity of this, that at the time when 
no " pap" is found in the cells of the males, or workers, the 
royal cells contain a great quantity of the jelly ; so greatly 
does the bringing up of the mother bees differ from the 
ordinary process. Bees understand very well that for a larger 
amount of nourishment a greater quantity of air is required, 



$0 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

otherwise digestion would be bad. It is not what one 
eats, but what one digests, which nourishes. They know 
this, and take care to enlarge the cells of the larvae in 
proportion to the nourishment given. The bees do more ; 
they ornament the cells with a new style of architecture, 
and enlarge them as the larva grows. When it is on 
the point of changing into a nymph, and the nourish- 
ment is suspended, the workers reduce the cell by shutting 
it up with a lid ; but this contraction of the dwelling is 
made gradually, little by little, till the metamorphosis is 
complete. 

It is to this special jelly, as well as to the size of the 
royal cells, that the larvae of the mother bees owe their 
peculiarities. When the bee has lost a wife, it can replace 
her at will, if the hive contain some larvae at least three 
days old ; later, the transformation could not take place. 
But at this time a working larva could easily become, by 
means of air and food, a queen. Such is the influence of 
the royal jelly, that if some particles of this food fall by 
chance into the little cells which surround the royal ones, 
the working larvae receive a portion of fecundity ; but they 
never lay any eggs, except those of drones. 

The chalicodome (one who builds with gravel), or mason- 
bee, shows in the construction of its nest many proofs of 
intelligence. The works of this insect, says M. Emile 
Blanchard, commence in the month of May— that is to say, 
a short time after its birth. A female explores a wall, and 
chooses a place. Having fixed on this point, she goes to look 
for materials, and if you follow her patiently, you will see her 
stop on some ground covered with gravel. The insect seizes 
small pieces of gravel with her jaws, pours out a little saliva, 
joins with it some grains of earth, and thus glues earth and 



BEES. 31 

gravel together, to form the mortar that she will employ in 
building. The little mass being soon hardened, she flies away 
with her burden, and returning to the wall, applies the first 
layer of cement. The same operation is repeated several 
times j the mass of mortar is soon sufficient for the work, and 
in the space of a day the first cell is constructed. But this 
cell remains open to a certain extent, the insect entering 
it several times to smooth the walls. At this time 
another care begins to occupy her attention — that of sup- 
plying this habitation with provisions. The mason-bee 
gathers honey and pollen from the flowers ; they are mixed, 
and the result is the sweet paste which constitutes the 
nourishment of all the larvae of the aphides. The pro- 
visions being complete, and filling nearly the whole of the 
cell, an egg is laid. Our bee blocks up this dwelling, and 
directly begins to build another quite close to it, and then a 
third, and so on, till there are eight, ten, twelve, or even 
more. These cells are placed irregularly, and are not of 
the same number in all the nests. The cells are built, 
provisioned, and hermetically sealed; but the work is not 
yet finished. The mason insect forms a general covering, 
a sort of roof, for which she collects larger pieces of gravel 
than those used in the composition of the mortar destined 
for the fabrication of the cells. The exterior wall of the 
nest has an enormous thickness, and a prodigious hardness, 
which is not the least interesting fact in the construction. 
The larvae will live in abundance, and be as much as pos- 
sible sheltered from danger. At the time of their birth 
they imprison themselves in a case of varnished tissue. 
Their transformation into nymphs is effected, and the adult 
insects are formed. How will the new masons get out of 
their dwellings ? Will they succeed in piercing this cement, 



32 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

harder than stone, and which the strokes of a hammer do 
not always break? It was once thought so, and so first 
hinted by Reaumur \ but this was an error. When the lid of 
the nest was constructed, a cut was made in the lower edge, 
near a cell whose occupant is destined to go out first. It is 
a kind of door, only covered by some powdered earth. The 
instinct of the architect puzzles our reason ; and does this 
architect only obey a blind instinct ? A worker so attentive 
to choose both place and materials, appearing at each instant 
to examine the state of its work — does this bee act like a 
wound-up machine, performing its uniform movement? 
Judge by several facts in the history of our mason. Possess- 
ing exclusively instinctive faculties, she ought always to 
accomplish the same work — begin and finish it in the same 
manner. This does not take place. Cells more or less 
dilapidated — containing in the interior abandoned shells, 
or skins of nymphs, having the partitions of the cells more 
or less broken— remain attached to the walls. The mason- 
bees, in their explorations, recognise these old nests, and do 
not fail to take possession of them. They thus understand 
how they can avoid much fatigue. This feeling cannot be 
attributed to instinct. This is not all, however. When a 
mason-bee thus takes possession of what we should call the 
ruins of a house, if we were speaking of a habitation built by 
men's hands, she is obliged to work in a very different way 
from that of the insect which builds a new nest. She must 
proceed to clean the interior, taking away the ruins of the 
shells, the skins of the larvae and nymphs, with all the dirt. 
She must then repair the breaches and stop up the open- 
ings ; in a word, know the situation and attend to the 
details of the whole work. Can it be thought that no 
reasoning is required in such a labour and plan. But there 



BEES 



33 



is something more striking. It sometimes happens that an 
idle mason-bee thinks of stealing from others ; she pene- 
trates the nest which is being built by another individual, 
and finding the place suits her, strives to maintain herself 
there by force. Reaumur has well traced this peculiarity 
of the wall-bee. " These observations," he says, " teach us 
that the spirit of injustice is not so peculiar to man as it is 
thought; it is found in the smallest animals. Amongst 
insects, as amongst men, the goods of others will be usurped, 
and their work appropriated. While a fly had gone to load 
itself with materials to add what was wanting to her cell, 
M. du Ham el saw, more than once, another fly enter with- 
out ceremony into the cell, turn itself in all directions, visit 
it from all sides, work to refit it as if it belonged to her. 
The proof that she did it with a bad intention was that 
when the true mistress arrived laden with materials, the 
place was not yielded to her by the other ; she was obliged 
to have recourse to violent means in order to preserve 
the possession of her goods ; she was forced to join in 
combat with the usurper, who was ready to defend the 
robbery." 

With a little patience anybody can easily test the facts 
which we have just mentioned about the mason-bees, and 
procure for himself a very instructive amusement. Nothing 
is moie worthy the philosopher's meditations than these 
manifestations of instinct and intelligence in small animals, 
and of actions on their part which among men would be 
judged, the one praiseworthy, the others contemptible. 
Individuals of the same kind among the industrious bees 
do not all seem to have the same propensities. Some are 
courageous, working honestly ; some are idle, and prefer 
not to work, appropriating by trick or force the property 

D 



34 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

of others. Will there long remain people ignorant enough 
to see in these animals only machines, and to understand 
nothing of the grandeur of creation? The reflections 
made by M. Emile Blanchard, one of the most distin- 
guished naturalists of our time, are a noble witness in 
favour of the intelligence of insects. 



HUMBLE-BEES. 

CO-OPERATION. — INDUSTRY AND INTELLIGENCE DEVELOPED 
IN DIRECT PROPORTION TO THE NUMBER OF CITIZENS. 

There they are, those great creatures — those fat lubbers, 
those snobs full of themselves, that are more noisy than 
industrious. Do you see them, with their eyes jutting out 
from their heads, their little wings giving them such airs 
of importance ? It is certainly not by licking the walls that 
they have grown to such a good condition. Happy mortals ! 
nature has gifted them with good humour : not ambitious 
and not wicked, they digest wonderfully. They work and 
feed while singing in the midst of the flowers in which they 
rejoice, giving themselves up to pleasures. The drones are 
real co-operatives ; they realise easy work. Their societies 
are much less numerous than those of the bees. Their 
sociability, less developed, shows a less advanced energy, 
less industry, and less intelligence. The architecture of 
their nests is less remarkable than that of the bees and 
wasps. Nevertheless, they are capable of a certain intelli- 
gence. The day is come for them to choose their nests ; do 
not think that the choice is made lightly or without reflec- 
tion. From the first day of spring, we are told by M. 
Rendu, the females are seen flying here and there, in the 
meadows and on the hillocks — visiting all the holes of the 
field-mouse, the shrew-mouse, and retreats of the large- 
headed mouse. They enter each in turn, inspecting all, and, 

D 2 



36 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

finally deciding in favour of those which seem to answer 
their purpose best, make their abode there. 

The female of the humble-bees takes special care to 
lay her eggs in cells of certain exact dimensions, carefully 
tested by repeated insertions of her body into the prepared 
receptacle. 

The larvae of the same cell being shut in, they live 
together, dine at the same table, under the same tent, feed 
together on the food prepared at the bottom of their cradle, 
and there grow. This cell does not exceed the size of a 
pea when the female lays her eggs there ; but as the eggs 
enlarge, the interior becomes too narrow, and cannot suffice 
for the progressive growth of the young insects. The cell 
splits lengthways, and it is then that the mother displays 
all her intelligence. She takes pieces of wax and applies 
them to the sides of the opening. She goes, comes, and 
returns again and again with stores of wax, and repeats her 
work of calking, till there is no trace of a rupture left. 
After three or four operations of a like nature, the cell is 
completely shut in, being enlarged by the part added. 
Each time the cell bursts, by the interior pressure of the 
larvae, the prison is again, in like manner, enlarged to the 
required dimensions, being at last about half an inch in 
length. 

M. Emile Blan chard gives another proof of the intelli- 
gence of the humble-bees, when they wish to draw up the 
honey from flowers having a very d^ep corolla. They 
cannot often, on account of their size, reach down to the 
bottom with their trunks. This difficulty does not discon- 
cert them : with their mandibles they cut the corolla in the 
lower part, and pass their trunk through the opening. 

The growth of the population among these bees has this 



HUMBLE-BEES. 37 

peculiarity — that the industry and intelligence of the city 
are developed according to the number of the inhabitants, 
and decline where the societies are reduced to a few in- 
dividuals. It is thus that the smallest communities do not 
cover their moss roof with wax, and do not lengthen their 
honey-pots, confining themselves to mere necessities. It is 
not the same in the more numerous societies. Frequent 
contact with others excites the intelligence ; a sort of emu- 
lation carries more will into the work, for the common 
protection and care of the little ones. 

Among the intelligent hymenopterous insects, we may 
mention the Chlorion, a solitary and digging bee. Often, 
says M. Emile Blanchard, have I witnessed the attack on 
a cockroach by a chlorion, and the intelligence displayed 
by the latter in bringing to its nest and getting into its 
narrow hole so large a body. When attacked, the cock- 
roach knows its enemy, and is paralysed by fear. Then 
the chlorion flings himself on the prey, seizes it with the 
mandibles between the head and corslet, and pierces the 
abdomen with its sting. The bee then retires awhile, till 
the victim's struggles are over. The chlorion then drags 
the body to the nest, often with great labour, for the 
burden is really heavy. He now busies himself about 
getting the prey into the cell; but the opening is far too 
narrow to admit the feet and wings of the cockroach. The 
chlorion understands the situation; the difficulty does not 
surprise him. He cuts the feet and wings off, and then 
tries to push the body into the hole; but it is still too 
large. The bee feels that he must do something better; 
it goes backwards into the hole, seizes the victim with his 
mandibles, and tugs with all his strength. The skin of the 
cockroach having a certain flexibility, the body at last dis- 



38 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

appears, by passing into the hole, into which we should 
never have thought it could have been forced. Do such 
acts on the part of the chlorion only proceed from instinct ? 
Who can think so, when observing these manoeuvres, so 
intelligent and varying according to circumstances ? 



FLEAS AND BUGS. 

MOTHERLY LOVE AND INTELLIGENCE OF FLEAS. — SOLDIER 
FLEAS. — RIDING FLEAS. 

We will finish this study on the intelligence of insects by 
stating some curious facts observed in animals which, until 
now, have been looked upon only as torments to man. 
The fleas not only possess the power of making sur- 
prising jumps,, but display an almost incredible muscular 
force. Lemery saw a flea of middle size chained to a little 
silver cannon, which the insect drew after it. The cannon 
was above an inch long, and as thick as a small pipe, 
weighing twenty-four times more than the flea. The gun 
was supported on two wheels, and exactly like a cannon 
used in war. It was sometimes fired off, but the brave flea 
was not at all frightened by the artillery roar. His mis- 
tress, adds Lemery, kept the insect in a little velvet box, 
which she carried in her pocket. She fed the creature 
easily, by putting it every day, for a little time, on her arm, 
scarcely feeling the bite ! Winter killed this martial flea. 
Mouffet says that an Englishman made a gold chain as 
long as his finger, with a padlock and a key ; a flea being 
attached to this chain, drew it daily with ease. The whole 
mass weighed less than a grain. 

Hoock relates that another English workman made an 
ivory carriage, with six horses; a coachman sat on the box, 
with a dog between his legs ; there, too, rode a postillion, 



4o 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



four gentlemen were in the carriage, and two footmen 
behind. The whole equipage was drawn by one flea. 

What a shaft horse ! Are these the only works which 
the fleas can accomplish ? No ; these little beings are 
so intelligent, that they can be trained to all sorts of 
exercises. 

The Baron Walckenaer, who died in 1452, relates 
marvels done by clever fleas, which were shown at Paris, 




Trained Fleas at work and at drill. 



in the Exchange. "I' saw them," says he, "with my 
entomologist eyes, through several magnifying glasses. Four 
fleas were doing the exercise, standing on their hind feet, 
and armed with a pike, which was a little spar of very 
fine wood. Two fleas were attached to a gold travelling 
carriage of four wheels, with a postillion. A third flea was 
seated on the coachman's box, a little piece of wood 
representing the whip. Two other fleas drew a cannon. 
All these clever drillings and others were executed on 
polished glass. The flea-horses were attached to a gold 



FLEAS AND BUGS. 41 

chain by their hind thighs. The owners told me," added 
Walckenaer, " that they never took off this chain. The 
fleas lived thus for two years and a half. They were fed 
by putting them on a man's arm, which they sucked. When 
they would not draw the cannon or the travelling carriage, 
the man took a lighted piece of wood, which he held 
above them ; they then moved, and re-commenced their 
exercises." 

The fleas had, in 1425, shown their rare talent in Paris, 
and in the provincial towns everywhere they puzzled 
human pride. But of what use is intelligence without a 
heart? It has been said that the smallest animal, the 
least useful in appearance, would astonish us by the 
patience, the courage, the spirit, and let us add sentiment 
and maternal tenderness. 

When the fleas have laid their eggs in the dust, in the 
slits of the floor, on cushions where animals sleep, or in the 
clothes of young children, then the white larvae, without 
feet, and very shaky, come out, twisting themselves like little 
eels. The mother flea pours into their mouths the blood 
with which she has filled herself, and one sees under their 
transparent skin the colouring of the digestive tube. Thus 
the drop of blood she takes from us forms the nourish- 
ment of her children. 

Do not accuse this poor and tender mother any more 
of wickedness. She, perhaps, bites you ; it is because she 
is forced to do so. Nature has imposed this law on her, 
she cannot avoid it ; she acts with all the consideration, 
all the management of a gastronomic insect, if you will, but 
she is certainly neither wicked nor a glutton. Once repulsed, 
the flea hastens to get away ; indeed, one might almost 
imagine she had scruples of conscience. She leaves the 



42 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



scene of her misdeeds, but still goes a lively, jumping 
insect, tickling all the neighbourhood with a soft and light 
foot, as if to benumb and alleviate the small pain of her 
bite. Why does Linnaeus call the flea irritating ? It is the 
bug, the plague of night, which he ought to have so named. 

That the flea teazes by its bite 
^4ll 111 those among us in whom the 

nervous system is not duly 
balanced by the sanguine tem- 
perament, is true, but she does 
not irritate any one. This may, 
however, be a matter of taste. 
The flea does not possess the 
acrid fluid, or poison, of the 
bug. This creature does not 
content itself with piercing the 
skin and extracting the blood, 
but introduces a poison, se- 
creted by herself. We have 
always defied mean people, and 
the enemies of light; now, the 
bug and man are the most 
direct and most cruel enemies 
of man. Their wickedness is 
all the more dangerous, as it is 
aided by an intelligence more 
developed. 

Valmont de Bomare tells us that a curious person wishing 
to discover how the bug was aware of the presence of man, 
made the following experiment : — He laid down in a hanging 
bed without a top, in the middle of a room, without one 
piece of furniture. He then put on the floor a bug, which, 




Sagacious Bug dropping from 
the ceiling. 



FLEAS AND BUGS. 43 

led doubtless by the smell, hesitated some time on the 
means it should take to arrive 'at the bed. At length it 
took the way to the wall, ascended, gained the ceiling, 
got over the bed, and fell from the ceiling on to the nose 
of the observer. Is not this again like an act of in- 
telligence ? 



REPTILES AND BATRACHIANS.* 

THE SNAKE A FRIEND OF WOMEN. — LIZARD A FRIEND OF 
MEN. — THE TORTOISE AND VENUS. — SALAMANDER AND 
FRANCIS I. — BIOGRAPHY OF A HUNTING TOAD, WHICH 
LIVED THIRTY-SIX YEARS. 

Mythology, says Virey, in his picturesque style, formerly 
armed the god of the day, Apollo, with his arrows to 
pierce the enormous Python, f which came out of the 
mud after the deluge. Formerly Hercules strangled the 
monster Achelous,{ in spite of his crooked windings ; 
furious dragons guarded the garden of the Hesperides 
and the Golden Fleece. Men saw Perseus shaking the 
head of Medusa, and sowing serpents from her hair on 
the burning plains of Africa ; the horrid Gorgons. the 
dreadful Furies Discord and Envy, armed with adders, 
frightened mankind, and petrified them with horror. 

The friends of nature, adds the poet and naturalist, 
are to-day conquerors of so many monsters. New Cad- 
muses, borrowing the wand of Mercury, advance without 
fear into the midst of these hostile races, survey them, class 
them, and, covered with the shield of science, protect 
themselves from hurt. They see among reptiles creatures 
wonderful in their forms, singular in the different colours 

* Greek name for frogs. f The serpent, a symbol of moral evil. 
X The god of the river Achelous. 



REPTILES AND BATRACHIANS. 45 

which decorate them, remarkable for the strange meta- 
morphoses of some species, and the singular habits of 
nearly all. 

Begging Virey's pardon, we have not any sympathy for 
reptiles, no confidence in them. We do not like these 
animals, with their icy look and clammy skin, which makes 
you shiver when you touch them. We dislike these beings 
without a country, which know not whether they come from 
France or England ; which sometimes live in the ocean, 
sometimes inhabit the continents ; which are not fishes 
or quadrupeds, but pass for either, according to their 
interests, and cry in turn, " Long live the king ;" " Long 
live the people." It has been said that the empire of the 
world belongs to the cold people ; we do not believe this 
at all. We know that certain reptiles reach, like eagles, 
high positions, but not from strength of heart, courage, or 
intelligence ; rather by meanness, and because they know 
how to endure injuries, to support blows, and then to run 
away quietly, without a spark of spirit. Their mediocrity 
throws no one into the shade ; they are always skulking in 
the corners of waiting-rooms, till the door is open for them 
to crawl after prime ministers and kings. We dislike the 
reptile. He has neither hair nor feather. He deceived 
our first mother ; and did he not cause us to lose Para- 
dise? Can we understand how the most hideous being, 
and one having the least feeling of maternity, could have 
seduced the mother of mankind ? That a superior verte- 
brate, an intelligent being, full of good nature and enthu- 
siasm, should exercise such an influence, is not surprising. 
But a reptile ! Would that it had been a bird ! Among 
the most abject animals, the least intelligent are those 
which take the least care of their offspring. The majority 



46 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

of the female reptiles do not hatch their eggs ; and some do 
not know their little ones. Directly they are born, the 
young fly from the parents as if they were enemies of 
their race. As to the males, real Saturns of the animal 
kingdom,* they often devour their young. The crocodile 
shows the extreme of this insensibility. It is the most 
abject, the most ferocious, and the most vile of all reptiles. 
The dignity of animals, says Franklin, is in proportion to 
their care for the young. Those in whom this sentiment is 
the highest are the first in the series of living beings. 
Those in whom it is low come in the second order, and 
are the last of all in intelligence. So it is proved once 
more that nature proportions the degrees of intelligence to 
the strength of the affections. As reptiles have a less 
developed heart, cold blood, and senses in general imper- 
fect, a great sensibility must not be expected in them. 

These animals are generally timid and fearful, hiding 
themselves, and living alone. Even education does not 
awaken much intelligence in them. Certain jugglers have 
been able to make some species of serpents stand, by 
balancing themselves on their tails, while following the 
slow or quick movements of music. The batrachian 
reptiles are in a peculiar condition as concerns their 
organs of circulation. Undergoing metamorphoses, they 
first breathe after the manner of fish, and it is only later 
that they acquire lungs. Their heart, which has only 
two cavities, answers to the right side of the heart in 
the superior vertebrates. 

We must pass in review all the functions to understand 
how, in the animal organisation, all works together, solidifies, 

* Alluding to the fable in which Saturn kills and eats his sons. 



REPTILES AND BATRACHIANS. 47 

and strengthens itself. The more the circulation is de- 
veloped, the more active is the respiration ; the more pure 
the blood, the more the organs it supplies are invigorated ; 
the strength is greater, the brain is more healthy and active, 
while the intellectual manifestations are more lively and 
enlarged. All the organs are in energetic combination one 
with the other, so that the nervous system and the brain 
are developed in proportion with the lungs. Even in the 
reptiles, those which have the larger lungs possess a more 
developed brain. This organ is, indeed, very small in com- 
parison with the body, being composed of six little tubercles, 
which do not fill the cavity of the skull. The brain seems 
to play such a little part in the life of reptiles, that it can be 
taken away without causing the death of the animal. The 
experiment has been made on the tortoise, which did not, 
h jwever, live above eighteen days. Reptiles eat and breathe 
little ; their actions show very little activity, and their 
organs of sensation are very feebly developed. The touch 
is very dull, on account of the thickness and hardness 
of their skin. The taste seems equally little developed, 
the tongue being cartilaginous, and covered with a thick 
glutinous secretion. The smallness of their organs of 
smell shows the weakness of this sense. The ears alone 
are pretty well developed, although often wanting several 
of the usual parts, as the winding gallery, the cochlea, and 
the interior canal. The drum is usually covered with scales 
or muscles. Lacepede says that reptiles must have feeble 
sensations, and a low power of communication with other 
creatures, and this produces that coldness, that apathy, that 
confused instinct which we remark so often in many of 
these animals. 

If, then, we observe the principles of their vital move- 



43 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

ments, we shall find a great simplicity both in the causes of 
motion and the effects ; we shall see fewer springs of action, 
and the connection between the different parts less marked. 
The mutual communications are less perfect, and the move- 
ments slower. Is this particular organisation one among 
the causes of the little sensibility reptiles possess? and is 
this coldness of temperament increased by their life in the 
water ? They do, however, seek the active light of the sun, 
they themselves having little interior heat, and rejoice in 
muddy places and a warm humidity. This moisture, aided 
by heat, serves for their development. 

The reader will perhaps ask, Why all this chapter on 
reptiles, in which the intelligence has nothing wonderful 
about it ? What interest can we feel in beings less sensible 
than others, less animated by lively passions, less active, 
less social, not showing^art or industry, dwelling in the clefts 
of rocks, or in the hollows of trees ; m beings which never 
recognised a mother, and which never received nourishment, 
care, help, or education from her ? The interest is greater 
than is supposed. If reptiles do not seem gifted with high 
faculties, if they have not the brilliant qualities, they possess 
the virtues of a cold temperament, calmness, attention, 
suspicion, and, above all, prudence ; that of the serpent 
having become proverbial. The serpent, says Chateau- 
briand, associates itself naturally with religious ideas, from 
the influence it has had on our destinies. An object of 
horror or adoration, mankind has for it either an implacable 
hate, or kneels before it as a genius. Deceit takes its name, 
prudence is characterised by it ; envy takes this reptile for 
a symbol, and eloquence is typified by the serpent wand. 
It arms the foreheads of the Furies, and is made the symbol 
of eternity. 



THE SNAKES. 

All reptiles are not so repulsive or so spiteful as we may 
think; of this the green and yellow common snake is a remark- 
able proof. It has neither mortal poison nor fatal fang, and 
shows only agreeable movements, elegant proportions, and 
soft or brilliant colours. When captive, says Lacepede, it 
submits to a servile condition, and adopts the movements 




Snakes in Leading-strings. 



taught. We have seen children tie two animals of this 
kind by their tails, and compel them to crawl side by side. 
They allow themselves to be twisted round the arm or 
neck, to be rolled into spirals, to be coiled and uncoiled, 
and suspended in different positions, without showing any 
signs of discontent. They seem even to have pleasure in 
thus playing with their masters. Valmont de Bomare saw 

E 



50 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

a snake so affectionate to its mistress, who fed it, that it 
often glided along her arm, as if to caress her, hid itself 
in the folds of her dress, and rested on her bosom. The 
animal went to her whenever it was called, followed her 
constantly, even recognised her mode of laughing, and 
turned to her when she approached, as if to wait her orders. 
The same naturalist saw one day the mistress of this gentle 
and familiar animal throw it into the strong current of a 
deep tidal river, she preceding in a boat. The faithful 
snake, always attentive to the voice of its dear mistress, 
swam after the skiff which held her ; but the tide coming in 
strongly, and the waves being contrary to the tired animal's 
progress, the poor reptile was at length drowned. This 
affection, this tenderness, this attention, so quick to recog- 
nise a person and to follow her — could it exist without 
something like memory and intelligence ? 

Some of the most deadly serpents are capable of being 
trained to a degree almost incredible by those who deny in- 
telligence to the lower animals. The venomous " spectacle 
snake" {Naja) of India and Africa is drilled to move and 
dance to the sound of music. Some are even so far dis- 
ciplined as to keep under restraint the natural tendency to 
use their fatal fangs. It is by no means true, as many 
suppose, that the " serpent-charmers" always extract the 
poison-teeth of their dangerous pupils. The snake-tamers 
are undoubtedly able, by a course of patient training, to 
teach the fanged reptiles not only to obey each sound of 
the flute or the gong, but to refrain from biting under the 
greatest temptations. Some of these snake-teachers will 
twine the naja round their own necks, and place the reptile 
on their heads, beneath the turban, with the most perfect 
confidence in the creature's self-restraint. Yet the same 



THE SNAKES. 



51 



snake will, in a minute after, inflict a deadly wound on 
a dog or a fowl brought within its reach; thus proving 
clearly that it had neither lost the fangs nor the disposition 
to use them. 



".V"^ £t 




Snake swimming after its Mistress. 



Now it must surely be granted that such snakes have 
the power of remembering and distinguishing the various 
musical sounds by which they regulate their movements. 
It is also equally clear that these deadly reptiles can be 



e 2 



52 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

educated so far as to control their natural impulses. In 
fact, they can acquire new habits, under tuition. 

We know that "the wisdom of the serpent" has long 
been accepted as an axiom ; and, whatever interpretation 
we may give to the phrase, it certainly implies the existence 
of what is properly called intelligence. The Buddhists of 
Ceylon, who believe in the divinity of the " hooded snake," 
may provoke our ridicule ; but the European who denies the 
existence of any " wisdom" in the serpent, has little reason 
to boast of his logical power, judicious discernment, or im- 
partial estimate of physiological facts. 



THE LIZARD. 

Some lizards are so readily tamed, and become so familiar 
with man, that we can scarcely refuse to believe in their 
intelligence. The beautiful green lizard {Lacerta viridis) 
will take food from the hands of its owner, and even lap 
water from the hollow of its keeper's hand. Our prettiest 
British species is a small greenish-brown reptile {Lacerta 
vivipara), speckled with orange and black, and is by no 
means uncommon. If the green lizard were as highly 
endowed with intelligence as it is with a wonderful power 
of reproducing lost organs, it would rank with the " most 
subtil" of creatures. The naturalist, Blumenbach, destroyed 
the eyes of some, and found those organs completely re- 
stored after the lapse of some weeks. Of course no one is 
rash enough to ascribe this remarkable restorative process 
to any peculiar skill possessed by the animals; but a 
mysterious power must, it is evident, be at work in the 
physical constitution of these active little creatures. 

Lizards are social beings, and are sometimes found in 
countless multitudes, dwelling together in perfect harmony. 
When Mr. Bruce visited the ruined Temple of the Sun at 
Baalbec, his attention was for a time directed from those 
wonderful ruins by the hosts of brightly-coloured lizards 
which had taken possession of the once magnificent house 
of Baal. These nimble reptiles were basking by thousands 
in the sun. They swarmed on prostrate columns, and 
darted in every direction over the Cyclopean granite masses 



54 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

of the temple walls. In such silent and lonely places 
these little creatures show the strength of their social 
tendencies. What a startling change is here ! Syrian 
lizards finding a sunny home in the courts once crowded 
by priests of Baal. 

One family of lizards, the geckos, are furnished with 
feet so complex in structure, that none but "clever 
animals" could use such elaborate walking machines. 
These feet are formed of a series of muscular layers, fringed 
with a sucker-like apparatus, and sometimes furnished with 
a sharp and hooked claw. The geckos are thus enabled 
to cling not only to walls, but to the smoothest surfaces, 
and to run along ceilings like the house fly. These rep- 
tiles know how to avail themselves of this peculiar organisa- 
tion. Is a gecko hungry, it suspends itself, back down- 
wards, to the under side of a large leaf, and waits, even 
for hours, until an insect comes within reach. Here, then, 
we find an animal provided with a delicate tool — for such 
the gecko's foot is — and we also see that the creature uses 
this instrument in the most effective manner. If a me- 
chanic has a thorough command over his tools, do we not 
deem him a skilful workman? Why, then, should we 
hesitate to admit a degree of intelligence in a reptile which 
uses its own special tools in the most perfect manner? 
This adhesive power -of the gecko's foot is not, of course, 
a mere mechanical result. The animal has to use rightly 
the numerous muscles by which the fan-like foot is ex- 
panded, and also those which draw the fleshy fibres close 
to the diversified surfaces of the bodies to which the lizard 
clings. These remarkable feet, and the reptile's intelligent 
use of them, early attracted the attention of the ancient 
Jews and Arabs. The Hebrew name for the lizard {LetddJi) 



THE LIZARD. 55 

is generally derived from an Arabic root, signifying to cling. 
The "spider" described in the Book of Proverbs (xxx. 28) 
as taking "hold with her hands/' and living "in kings' 
palaces," is probably the gecko, which is found in the 
most secluded parts of royal Eastern mansions. The cool 
manner in which these lizards await the near approach of a 
foe, and then suddenly disappear, indicates a degree of 
watchfulness combined with courage, which would be called 
"presence of mind" in a human being. A man sees a 
gecko on a wall, he resolves upon its capture, and slowly 
the hand or net approaches. The bright eyes of the little 
lizard are fixed on the coming peril; there is no sign of 
stupid fright in the creature — only a keen observation of 
the enemy's motions. Just as the swoop is about to be 
made, the creature disappears, as in the " twinkling of an 
eye." The disappointed man may, for a moment, be at 
a loss to trace the lizard's place of refuge ; but he sees, 
after some search, a small chink between the time-worn 
stones of the wall, into which the creature has darted, and 
where it is safe from human fingers. The defeated man 
probably goes away with the reflection that the lizard has 
intelligence enough to baffle him. 



TORTOISES. 

The land tortoise has ever been chosen as a symbol of 
slowness, both in motion and understanding ; the sea 
tortoise, or turtle, may be regarded as emblematical of 
prudence. This virtue, says Lacepede, which in animals is 
the result of the dangers they have encountered, need not 
astonish us in these tortoises, which are the most sought. 




Tortoise under a Wagon-wheel 

the danger in hunting them being little. The tortoises 
are covered with a complete suit of bony armour, the upper 
part being called the " carapace," and is of so hard a nature 
as to stand the pressure of extremely heavy weights. Even 
a wagon-wheel has passed over the animal without breaking 
its tough and firm covering. Mildness and capacity of 
endurance are the distinguishing characteristics of the green 
tortoise or turtle ; and these qualities may have induced 



TORTOISES. 57 

the imaginative Greeks of old to make it a symbol of 
beauty, and Phidias to place such a creature at the feet 
of his Venus. We may here remark how wonderfully the 
character of the tortoise coincides with the formation of 
its body : its habits are as regular as its shell is solid. 
Being more passively than actively inclined, the tortoise 
rarely experiences any strong desires ; more prudent than 
brave, it seldom defends, but rather tries to shelter itself, 
and employs all its strength to cling to the ground when 
we endeavour to raise it by the shell. 

The sluggish motions of the common land tortoise may- 
lead many persons to underrate the intelligence of such a 
" ridiculously slow" creature. This tardiness of progres- 
sion arises from the animal's peculiar structure, and is no 
proof of dulness. Examine the legs, they appear like 
crutches ; notice the feet, they form a strong grappling 
apparatus for pulling along a heavy weight ; but who would 
expect swiftness from such toes ? Some large tortoises do, 
however, make long journeys with more rapidity than we 
should have thought possible. Those in the Galapagos 
islands were found by Mr. Darwin able to travel four miles 
a day — a rate of progress not despicable in a creature pro- 
vided with such legs, and so heavy that six men were often 
required to lift one. But we must not forget that this slow 
movement is characteristic of the land tortoise only ; those 
inhabiting the waters swim with rapidity and ease, turtles 
having been found 2,000 miles from land. 

Though the tortoise is slow of foot, it is quick in using 
all its available modes of defence. See how completely the 
animal withdraws head and feet within the protecting cover 
of its strong shell, in which, as in a castle, the tenant may 
defy every foe, except man. The box tortoise (j>yxis) pos- 



53 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

sesses a very singular defensive apparatus, which it well 
knows how to use. The plastron, or shell, covering the 
under part of the body, is so formed that its front segment 
can be drawn upwards so as to protect the animal's head 
when this has been drawn back under the carapace* The 
upper and under shells then meet in front, forming a kind 
of box, in which the creature is unassailable. When the 
danger passes away the reptile relaxes a muscle, the raised 
part of the plastron then falls, allowing the head and fore- 
feet to come forth. This movable plate is fastened to the 
plastron by a strong hinge of elastic ligament. The effective 
manner in which the tortoise uses its remarkable defensive 
door, indicates as much of watchful intelligence as the cir- 
cumstances require. 

If the tortoises possessed the utmost powers of flight, 
they would be foolish to run from their enemies, having 
such impregnable fortresses in which to take refuge. 
It is surely no proof of stupidity to make the best possible 
use of the means at hand. This is just what the tortoise 
does. 

It may be said that the turtles must be stupid to allow 
the hunters to turn them over on their backs by long poles, 
when they must remain on the spot, being unable to recover 
their natural position. But the turtles are, in this case, sub- 
jugated by man, with whose skill the most cunning animal 
cannot effectually contend. Besides, these reptiles are per- 
fectly aware of their peril if thus overturned. When two 
turtles engage in battle, the great object of each is to upset 
his opponent. This being accomplished, the victor marches 
off in triumph, feeling that his foe is powerless. These 
creatures are, therefore, quite aware of the weak point in 

* -The shell on the back of the tortoise. 



TORTOISES. 59 

their organisation. Thus much, at least, of " self-knowledge " 
even turtles possess. Some of the American river tortoises 
(Gymnopus spiniferus) show so much cunning and energy 
in attacking the fishermen, when caught, that the men can 
only secure themselves from dangerous bites by cutting off 
the heads of these reptiles as soon as possible. 

Few animals seem more impassive than the common 
tortoise, but those who are able to watch its movements 
know that the creature is really very sensitive. What can it 
feel, some may ask, of atmospheric influences, covered with 
that insensible shell ? The actions of the tortoise give the 
reply. A few drops of rain will send it home with all speed ; 
even the distant approach of a shower makes it uneasy. 
Hence Gilbert White remarked that his tortoise showed " as 
much solicitude about rain as a lady dressed in all her best 
attire." The bright light of the sun seems to be especially 
grateful to tortoises. Rarely will they stir out at night, and 
the approach of winter drives them into their retreats till 
spring returns. This physical sensitiveness shows a tempera- 
ment less sluggish than is commonly supposed. 

The animal also learns to recognise persons, remembers 
those who feed it, instantly distinguishing them from stran- 
gers. Here, therefore, we find memory exercised, and some 
degree of discrimination is clearly shown. The common 
tortoise has also skill enough to make for itself a winter 
home in the ground, and, when spring comes, forms a hole 
in the upper part of its cell in order to obtain a supply of 
air without leaving the house when the weather is cold. 

The turtles, too, exhibit some degree of contrivance in 
forming the nests for their eggs. These are not mere 
hollows scooped out in the sand, but resemble the ovens of 
half-civilised tribes. Over the hollow in which the eggs are 



6o THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

deposited earth is placed, so as to form a covering which 
may protect the contents of the nest from the chilling damps 
of tropical nights. This arch-like cover is not thick enough 
to exclude the heat of the sun, but quite sufficient to retain 
much of the warmth during the night. Nor is the position 
of these nests on the shore a matter of indifference ; they 
must be placed above high-water mark, or the next tide 
would sweep away the eggs. 

The tortoises in tropical islands require much fresh 
water for drinking, and have often discovered springs of 
which the inhabitants were ignorant. When these animals 
have found such a fountain, the whole surrounding district 
is soon covered by " tortoise roads," made by these large 
reptiles in their frequent journeys to and from the waters. 
Some of these springs flow from volcanic rocks at a great 
elevation, but the tortoises generally discover them. 

The brain and nervous system of these reptiles have 
been carefully examined by great anatomists, and the ex- 
periments on the living animals will appear to some readers 
exceedingly cruel. As the results prove only the extraordi- 
nary vitality of the reptiles, and have little connection with 
their intelligence, the briefest notice will suffice. A common 
land tortoise moved about with apparent ease for more than 
six months after its brain had been entirely removed. The 
eyes closed after the operation, but the vital powers of the 
animal seemed little affected in other respects. In two of 
these reptiles the heart continued to beat and the blood to 
circulate for twelve days after their heads had been cut off. 
It may well excite surprise that such extraordinary tenacity 
of life should be generally found in animals possessing a low 
intelligence. A mammal will die in an instant from a wound 
which a tortoise would survive for half a year. 



THE SALAMANDER. 

Why did Francis I. adopt, on one occasion, the salamander 
in the fire for his device, with the motto — " I live in and 
extinguish it?" There was here a twofold allusion— one 
pointing to an ancient superstition, the other to the perilous 
position of the king himself and his hopes of victory. 
Francis probably believed that the salamander could really 
live in the fire, or at least could endure the flames unharmed 
until it extinguished them. By adopting so strange a 
device he plainly intimated to friends and foes that, though 
surrounded by dangers, he should escape harm, and finally 
triumph. Let any reader take up one of our British sala- 
manders, either the large or small water newt, or eft, as the 
rustics call it, and observe the timid, harmless creature, 
about which such marvels were formerly believed. It could 
live in the fire, said most men ; it would poison the vegeta- 
tion of a whole region, was the gloomy declaration of Pliny ; 
its venom was deemed so deadly, that a proverb uttered the 
terrible warning, " if a salamander bites you, put on your 
shroud." The orchard-keepers dreaded its approach, be- 
lieving that if it should touch but one apple the whole tree 
would be infected. The farmer abhorred the creature, sup- 
posing that it sucked the milk from his cows. In truth, 
nearly all men looked upon the unlucky reptile with horror 
and hate, as furnishing the most deadly spell for the 
witches' incantations. Thus the poor salamander had 
gained for itself the honour of being the most hated animal 



62 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

on the earth. There were a few, indeed, who endeavoured 
to extract good from its body ; but they rather increased 
the perils of the persecuted reptile. The heart, being 
placed in a small casket and worn round the neck, was 
deemed a protection against fire, and a preservative from 
contagious disease. Even man's love of gold brought 
misery to the salamander. The alchymists — who were 
in fact the fathers of chemistry — believed that if quick- 
silver were poured on a roasting salamander the metal 
would be turned into gold. The sins of the experimenter 
might, indeed, prevent the transmutation ; and it is to be 
feared that all the operators were great sinners, as their 
attempts seem to have universally failed. 

Was the salamander the most stupid, or the most clever 
of reptiles, that it incurred such persecutions? Neither 
attribute was the cause of its calamities. The fluid which it 
sometimes pours from its skin, may have slightly damped 
the heat of burning fagots, or have raised small blisters on 
the fingers of its persecutors, and from such occurrences the 
credulity and ignorance of mankind drew up a terrible list 
of horrors. 

All the salamanders do, however, possess a power which 
we, in the nineteenth century, must call mysterious, and 
which the ancients might well have deemed supernatural. 
No creatures reproduce destroyed organs in a greater degree 
than the salamanders. This has attracted the attention of 
the greatest physiologists, and baffled the scrutiny of human 
science. Our large water newt {Triton cristatus) will not 
only survive the amputation of tail, legs, eyes, and head, but 
will reproduce nearly all the destroyed parts in their original 
perfection. But such renovating energies are rather physio- 
logical mysteries than signs of intelligence ; we will, there- 



THE SALAMANDER. 63 

fore, now mention one process which suggests that even our 
common newt is endowed with something like reason. The 
female forms a separate cradle for every egg deposited ; she 
selects the leaf of some water plant, especially one of the 
joint-worts (polygonum persicaria), and bends it until the 
under side is brought in contact with her body. An egg is 
then glued to the leaf, the end of which, being folded back 
on the after-part of the leaf, forms a well-contrived case. 
The folded part is prevented from returning to the straight 
position by a gummy secretion, with which the newt glues 
the sides of the inverted leaf together. These bent parts of 
the plant are easily observed by those naturalists who are 
familiar with this animal's ingenious mode of protecting her 
eggs. In this process we may note the following stages of 
an intelligent work. First, the selection of a leaf fitted for 
the purpose ; then the gluing the egg firmly to prevent the 
water from carrying it away ; next follows, in most natural 
order, the work of making the cradle by folding the leaf 
back. Did the reptile stop here, the whole of the previous 
work might be in vain, as the elasticity of the vegetable 
fibres would soon bring back the leaf to its natural position. 
This is prevented in a mode thoroughly rational ; the reptile 
worker fastens the folded part down, and thus the object is 
secured. Every step in this operation proceeds as reason 
would dictate. 



THE DOMESTICATED TOAD. 

We shall finish this chapter on reptiles with a short account 
of a toad which lived more than thirty-six years in a hole 
beneath the door-step of a French farm-house. How old it 
was when first noticed no one could say, but it had pro- 
bably lived a long time before familiarity with the sight of 
man emboldened it to rest tranquilly on the door-step, over 
which many persons were constantly passing. The step 
became, in reality, the reptile's hunting-ground, where, with 
little trouble, it might capture the ants which persisted in 
crossing and re-crossing the step. The toad "hunting for 
its supper," became one of the regular sights of the neigh- 
bourhood, and certainly the skilful manner in which the 
creature used its wonderfully formed tongue, left an im- 
pression upon all spectators that this toad was a most clever 
insect-hunter. Four particulars, especially, fixed the atten- 
tion of the more thoughtful observers. It was soon evident 
that the toad was most skilful in judging distances ; the 
tongue was never darted at an insect until it came within a 
certain range — this space was never miscalculated. The 
accuracy of the creature's aim was another matter for sur- 
prise. The insects were generally, if not always, in motion 
when the tongue was darted out against them ; but the 
arrow never failed to hit. The singular rapidity with 
which the organ was shot forth excited equal wonder. 
Many curious watchers were unable to note every motion ; 
only a few of the keener eyes could manage this. Yet this 



THE DOMESTICATED TOAD. 65 

operation was a complex one. The tongue is doubled or 
folded up when in the mouth ; there is therefore a twofold 
action required — an uncoiling of the weapon, and then the 
darting out process. The withdrawing of the tongue, with 
the captured insect on the tip, was not less remarkable than 
the other operations. Notwithstanding the rapid motion, 
the fineness of the tongue tip, and the struggles of the prey, 
the captured victim was never dropped. 

Now it is clear that, in all this hunting work, the toad 
intelligently employed two instruments in harmonious co- 
operation — the eye and the tongue. The one never failed 
the other. The rifle-shooter knows how much practice is 
required before eye and hand act perfectly together; our 
domesticated toad had gained this power over the combined 
action of two dissimilar organs. 

The tameness of this toad was so remarkable, that we 
may justly call the animal "domesticated." It would remain 
quietly in one hand, and take its food from the other, pro- 
vided a leaf were placed on the hand which held it. Without 
this precaution, the warmth of the human skin evidently 
annoyed the cold reptile. Few things seemed to please the 
animal more than placing it on a table in the evening when 
the lamp was lighted. It then, with the greatest confidence, 
would look round with its gleaming eyes, and when insects 
were placed on the table, snapped them up with a rapidity 
which seemed greater than in its day huntings. 

In this way the animal lived for thirty-six years, in or 
near the house, the pet of the village and the neighbourhood. 
It might have lived for as many years more, had not a tame, 
but spiteful and jealous raven pecked out one of the toad's 
eyes. The vindictive bird brought upon himself universal 
hatred for this "assault, battery, and maiming;" but this 

F 



66 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

sympathy was no profit to the reptile. Then we saw how 
much the proper use of its tongue depended on the sight 
The toad could no longer measure distances accurately, or 
aim with certainty. A newt might have restored its eye, 
but this was beyond the science of our reptile, which died 
in about a year after the injury, apparently from starvation. 



FISH. 

THEIR INTELLIGENCE VARIETY OF THEIR DWELLING- 
PLACES LITTLE PARENTAL FEELING COURAGE AND 

ACTIVITY IN SELECTING SPAWNING-GROUNDS — MEMORY 

LONG LIFE RESEMBLANCES TO BIRDS BRAINS — 

EYES — TOUCH — INTELLIGENCE OF THE MILLER'S THUMB 

SKILL OF THE STICKLEBACKS AND THORNBACKS 

SOCIABILITY OF PERCH — ABILITY OF THE SHOOTING 
FISH INTELLIGENCE OF A PIKE HABITS OF THE SEA- 
HORSES — THE SHARKS — STRATAGEMS OF THE TURBOTS, 
EELS, DILK-HEADS, AND DART-FISH. 

Fish do not exhibit many of the signs of animal intelli- 
gence. The element in which they live may, indeed, pre- 
vent us from observing them closely. Many proofs of fish 
skill and tokens of ingenuity may be hidden in the sands of 
rivers and the depths of ocean. We do undoubtedly 
discern a certain amount of watchfulness and cunning in 
our common river fish. How slily does the trout lie in 
wait for the plump gudgeon ! how warily does an expe- 
rienced fish swim round and round the bait, scanning it 
from every side with a scrutiny which says, " there's some- 
thing suspicious here !" Practised anglers will recall many 
cases in which the most seductive baits and the most 
enduring patience have failed to hook some sagacious 
'*' fourteen-pounder." But, nevertheless, the intelligence of 
the fishes is not ranked very high by naturalists, though it 
may be questioned whether some have not placed the acute- 

F 2 



68 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

ness of the order too low. One compares a fish to a 
•'stupid old man with a softening brain," a comparison 
which shows little observation in the writer himself. " The 
low forehead and heavy head" are also pointed out as the 
signs of stupidity in a fish. Such naturalists forget that the 
form of the head in these animals is adapted to facilitate 
their motion through the water, and has little, if any, influ- 
ence on their intelligence. This must be inferred from the 
creature's habits rather than from the shape of its skull. 
The question whether fish have not less cunning than 
reptiles has been proposed, but who can give an answer 
which shall be supported by satisfactory proofs? Cases 
might easily be selected of clever fishes and dull reptiles by 
one person, while another could produce an equal number 
of subtle reptiles and foolish fish. 

The dwelling-places of these "people of the waters" 
are exceedingly varied, and each must require the exercise 
of instincts and habits suited to the localities in which the 
fish makes its home. Some delight in the mud, some in 
stagnant waters, and these seem dull and lazy in the day- 
time ; but, as many are night feeders, their activities are 
concealed from our observation. Some frequent rippling 
brooks, where the clearest waters roll musically over silvery 
sands ; others delight in the strong currents of deep tidal 
rivers, sporting near the surface, or luxuriating in the warm 
depths of the water. Some, like the salmon, inhabit alter- 
nately the fresh and salt water, frequenting the rivers in 
summer, and returning to the sea for the winter. One 
family of fishes possesses also the power of " flying in the 
air," or, at least, of sustaining themselves by the action of 
the large and outspread fins during a flight of two hundred 
yards. Now this great variety of waters and changes of 



FISH. 69 

locality seem to require in fish an equal diversity of instincts 
and capacity of adapting themselves to changes. But such 
power of accommodating itself to circumstances is rarely 
found in a stupid animal. 

Fishes, it is said, have none of that training of their 
instincts which the bringing up of their young affords to so 
many animals. This remark is perfectly just. There can 
be no doubt that the necessity of providing for the young 
is a most potent educator of animal instincts. Fish are 
undoubtedly deprived of this powerful stimulus, and the 
reason is clear. Their children are too numerous to admit 
of such care. It is easy for the active swallow to tend her 
three or four nestlings, but what would a fish do had she to 
watch over a million of hungry young ones ? When, there- 
fore, the herring or salmon leave their almost countless 
eggs to be hatched on rocks or sands, they are simply 
•obeying a law of nature, which commands them thus 
to act. 

It cannot, however, be said that even fisn are en- 
tirely without regard for their race. If we admire the 
zeal with which a bird constructs the nest — a place of safe 
deposit for her eggs — we cannot entirely overlook the 
energy with which the salmon forces her way up a stream, 
until she finds a place suitable for the reception of the ova. 
In this attempt the fish will contend with currents, leap up 
waterfalls twenty feet high, and brave every peril. To this 
extent, therefore, these animals are brought under the influ- 
ence of what is in them the maternal feelings. It is this 
impulse alone which brings every year to our shores such 
countless myriads of herrings and mackerel from their usual 
homes in the deeper waters. It may, however, be said that 
these migrations are no proof of intelligence, but only of a 



70 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

blind instinct. This conclusion is certainly not true in all 
cases. The salmon does undoubtedly show intelligence in 
surmounting the obstacles to her progress in rocky streams. 
Fish, too, are acute enough to abandon their old haunts 
when unusually disturbed. They are not, therefore, alto- 
gether led in these migrations by a blind instinct, but select 
or reject certain waters, according to circumstances. 

The ingenuity shown by young eels in overcoming the 
obstacles to their progress up a river, even climbing up 
locks and floodgates, is another proof that these inhabitants 
of the waters are able to devise special methods of over- 
coming special difficulties. 

The possession of a strong memory by fish is proved by 
the return, over long distances, to the waters where they 
were hatched. Salmon have often been marked before 
going to the sea, and the next year have been found in 
their old haunts. 

We must not forget that the long life which is granted to 
fishes must at length develop in old ones a high degree of 
prudence or cunning. Every angler knows the difference 
between the heedless dash of a young trout at a bait, and 
the suspicious approach of an old and experienced " lord of 
the river." If we grant that fish are the most dull of 
animals, we must also admit that longevity gives time for 
drawing out and stimulating even sluggish instincts. 

Thus, if the higher life of intelligence be less developed, 
or at least more retarded, the animal life is longer; fish 
•gain in longevity what they lose in intensity ; so they would 
not have uttered the maxim, " Life, short and sweet." 
Constantly plunged in water, the fibres, the bones, and the 
tissues of fish preserve for a long time their flexibility. The 
progress both of growth and decomposition is more retarded, 



FISH. 71 

and the ossification less rapid, as the cartilaginous skeletons 
of fish show. 

By their organisation, they form a race of beings between 
the articulated and the vertebjated orders, and are very in- 
teresting subjects of study. They form one link in a great 
family of animals, of which the birds are another, arid to 
which they have a great and peculiar resemblance, both 
being inhabitants of fluids, in which they move with equal 
activity and ease. 

Fishes, said Virey, may be regarded as birds of the sea, 
and birds as fishes of the atmosphere. The wings of the 
one are represented by the fius of the other, and the feathers 
by scales. If there are aquatic birds there are also aerial or 
flying fish. Swimming and flight are nearly the same act, 
executed in two different fluids ; the fish flies in water, as 
the bird swims in the atmosphere. If the winds assist the 
flight of birds with feeble wings, the currents of the sea aid 
the weak fins of fish, while the stronger species of both 
orders brave the currents of the ocean or the tempests of 
the air. 

As there are some birds unable to fly, there are also 
some fish which cannot swim ; there are, again, some which 
live in society and others which prefer a solitary life. The 
annual migration of fishes to the depths of the sea is 
not less regular than the migration of birds to distant 
lands. Both travel in large numbers to other regions, either 
to gather more abundant nourishment, or to reproduce the 
species in peace. Each returns to its first country, and 
it is at these seasons that man makes such havoc among the 
singing birds of the air and the dumb inhabitants of the 
deep. 

Strong contrasts are also evident between these was 



72 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

classes of animals. The bird is less prolific than the fish. 
The latter has the flesh less firm, the muscular fibres feeble, 
and is apathetic ; the former is remarkable for physical 
energy and high excitability. The bird is attached to its 
family, loves, attends, and nourishes it ; the fish has no 
attachment for its young, and abandons them without 
regret. Birds naturally abound in the Northern Hemi- 
sphere because there is more land; while in the Southern 
Hemisphere fishes predominate on account of the extent 
of water. 

If the tropical birds are enriched with splendid colours, 
the fishes of the equatorial seas $re not less brilliant. Cui- 
rasses of gold, silver, azure, rubies, and emeralds, sparkle in 
the waves like precious stones under the light of the sun ; 
but these splendid decorations often vanish at death, while 
the colour of the feathers does not thus fade among birds. 
Fishes change their colours and scales according to their 
age, sex, and seasons ; birds also moult their plumage and 
lose their diversity of tint from the same causes. As birds 
indicate the coming of tempests by their peculiar flight, so 
fishes by their unquiet movements announce the approach 
of storms, and rise to the surface of the water when it is 
likely to rain. 

This great resemblance between these two classes of 
animals depends no doubt on the medium which they in- 
habit, for fluidity being common to air and water, we should 
expect a resemblance between the beings which are found 
there. Nature is obliged to follow the path set before it, as 
if an invisible hand had traced the route through which 
it must pass in all ages. 

As the habits, manners, and intelligence depend on the 
nervous system, we shall have a better idea of organic per- 



fish. 73 

fection and the more or less development of sensibility and 
intelligence by considering this in fishes. 

The central parts of the nervous system in fish are com- 
posed, like that of vertebrated animals, of the brain and 
the spinal marrow. The brain is lodged in the cranium, 
and the spinal marrow occupies the vertebral canal, filling 
the whole length. There are only a few exceptions to this 
remark ; we may mention the sea-devil or frog-fish, and the 
moon-fish, in which the spinal marrow is extremely short. 

But considering the largeness of the head in fishes, and 
the capacity of their cranium, the brain is rather small. As 
there is a harmony between the extent of the intellectual 
manifestations and the development of the brain, we find 
evidence enough to support the opinion that fishes are 
creatures very imperfectly gifted with intelligence. 

The brain, instead of being close to the inner surface of 
the cranium, as among the superior animals, occupies a very 
limited space in the skull. A slight shake suffices to displace 
it if there is not sufficient oily matter to fill the empty space. 
The brain of fishes is marked by the feeble centralisation of 
the parts ; the functions of the nervous centres appearing 
to be less localised than among the higher vertebrated 
animals. See how this proves that the organisation in- 
fluences the intelligence, and that it is not only necessary 
to consider the volume, but also the density and com- 
position of the brain. Fishes whose brains nearly approach 
those of the higher vertebrated forms are the skates, and 
those known scientifically under the name of plagiostomes* 
Their cerebral hemispheres are strongly developed, and, 
above all, very large, but do not fill the skull. The two 

* A word signifying uneven jaws, and including the shark family. 



74 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

inferior lobes, the optic lobes, and the cerebellum* are well 
developed. The brains of carp are larger than those of 
other fish in proportion to the size of their bodies. This 
proportion in the carp is as i to 500, the same as in the 
elephant. If it were easier to observe the manners of these 
animals, we might, without doubt, see among them signs 
of intelligence in accordance with the development of their 
brains. 

In a very interesting notice on the brains of fishes, 
M. Holard has shown that these comprehend every part 
which exists in the brains of superior animals. We must 
not forget the experiments of Magendie and Desmoulins, 
or those of M. Flourens, by which these physiologists 
attempted, by cutting and removing certain lobes of the 
brain, to observe the true functions of this organ. Lastly, 
Dr. Baudelot has proved that fishes do not appear to be 
incommoded by the destruction of the hemispheres of the 
cerebrum, t The animal seems even then to preserve all 
its faculties, and moves with the same agility and the same 
certainty as before the operation. The result is very 
different from that produced upon mammalia, or among 
birds, in which the removal of the hemispheres would cause 
a profound stupor, and an annihilation of the intellectual 
faculties. 

Fishes Have some well-developed senses. Every one 
has remarked the convex shape of their eyes, which fits 
them to see in the water, and is adapted to the peculiar 
refraction which a ray of light undergoes in passing through 
so dense a fluid. The range of their vision being extended, 
and the survey accurate, they dart with amazing certainty 

* The small inner brain. 

f The outer and larger part of the brain. 



fish. 75 

upon a bait. All fishermen will tell you what precautions 
are necessary in approaching the water, in order not to 
frighten the fish. The Romans, who did not care much 
about fish except to eat them, had nevertheless remarked 
the acuteness of hearing in these animals. It delighted 
them to give particular names to the inhabitants of their 
fish-ponds, and they were successful in making each one 
come at the sound of its name. The sense of smell appears 
to be very refined and very perfect among the inhabitants 
of the waters. Their olfactory nerves are strongly de- 
veloped, and experiments made by Mr. Jesse prove the 
acuteness of their smell. He fed fish in a basin, and 
noticed that these animals preferred paste and worms which 
had been prepared with certain perfumes. This fact is not 
unknown to anglers, some of whom soak their baits in 
odorific substances to stimulate the appetites of the more 
luxurious fishes. 

Who knows whether fishes do not owe their little- 
developed intelligence to want of taste and of touch? 
What can we expect from beings who have no taste ? 
Therefore fishes do not eat, they swallow. It is only people 
of sense, said a celebrated gastronomer, who know how 
to eat ! 

If fishes want the sense of touch they have but little 
occasion for its exercise. Existence for them is not very 
difficult, they have only to give way and go down the river 
of life. The inhabitants of the waters also appear very 
insensible ; never have we seen a fish shed a tear ! 

But to preserve himself and to ensure the existence of 
posterity, the inhabitant of the waters does put off his 
carelessness and his intellectual torpor. Look at the 
miller's thumb, called the bull-head. It has a large head, 



76 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

at least as wide as it is long among the old males, a little 
flattened above, forming not less than a third of the animal. 
Its eyes are smaller than the eyes of most other fishes, but 
they are sharp, and placed near the top and towards the 
side of the head, so that a wide survey is taken at once. 
With such a head, and such an extended view, this fish 
might be expected to possess a high degree of acuteness. 
It has been shown that the miller's thumb is usually too 
intelligent to take the bait. In order to capture the fish the 
fisherman is obliged to use a net, which is dragged along 
while he overturns the stones and stirs the sand, either with 
his feet or with a stick, to dislodge the fish hidden in the 
cavities, and to force them into the net. Three men are 
necessary to put this plan perfectly into practice, even in a 
small river ; whilst two drag the net up the stream, the third 
goes before, stirring the ground with his stick in the direction 
of the net. 

See the intelligence and the care with which the stickle- 
back constructs its nest. M. Emile Blanchard relates, 
that towards the first days of June, under ordinary circum- 
stances, the male stickleback seems to be looking out for 
a convenient place. He keeps moving a long time about 
the same locality, frequently quitting it and then return- 
ing. After having stopped and determined on a place, 
he digs with his snout into the mud at the bottom of the 
water, and ends by burying himself there. Then, working 
vehemently, and turning with great rapidity round and 
round, he forms a cavity, which is bounded by the earthy 
matter thrown out at the edges. This first part of the work 
executed, the fish withdraws himself, looks on all sides, and 
is evidently in quest of something. A little patience yet, 
and you will observe him seize between his teeth a vegetable 



fish. 77 

thread or filament of a root. Then, holding this in his 
mouth, he returns directly to the little trench which he 
has dug. He there places the thread, fixes it with the 
aid of his snout, taking some grains of sand to keep it in 
position, and rubbing it with his belly on the ground. When 
he is assured that the fragile filament will not be washed 
away by the stream, he goes to seek more, and adjusts 
this as he did the first. The same work is repeated over 
and over again, until the bottom of the trench is covered 
with a sufficient bed of weeds. The time arrives when the 
layer is thick enough ; all the parts are attached one to 
the other very nicely, and are well trimmed, because the 
stickleback has rubbed the ends with the mucous matter 
which exudes from openings along his sides. That which 
charms the attentive observer is the intelligence which 
appears to preside over the lesser details of the operation. 
In placing the materials, the fish seems at n*-st simply to 
heap them up; but when once the first row is fixed, he 
disposes them with mere care, arranging them to suit the 
opening at the entrance of the nest. If the work is not 
perfect, the clever workman draws the defective pieces 
out, fastens them, and works away until he has assured 
himself that all is as he wishes. Amongst the materials 
brought, those which have an inconvenient form or size are 
immediately rejected. The stickleback rapidly moves his 
fins to produce strong currents, as if he would assure him- 
self of the solidity of his edifice, and that none of it can 
be washed away. This is not all. The foundations of 
the nest are laid, and in order to complete the edifice our 
architect must travel much ; but his perseverance does not 
abate. He continues to procure materials, shapes the sides 
and bottom of the trench, ornamenting them with weeds, 



78 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



pressed and crossed the one over the other. The stickle- 
back always glues these together with the utmost care. 

He introduces himself between the two upright walls, 
leaving a cavity large enough for the female to pass without 




The Stickleback and its Nest 



difficulty. He then proceeds io construct the roof. Fresh 
weeds are brought and placed upon the top of the walls 
already formed, and then fastened at their extremities. 
The fish always pursues his work in the same manner, 
fixing and turning the grass blades with his snout, trimming 
e walls of the edifice, and agglutinating them with the 



fish. 79 

rummy fluid pressed from the pores of Lis body. The 
cavity is particularly the object of his care ; he rectifies 
many mistakes in it, until the sides of the nest are well 
formed. Sometimes the domicile is closed at one of its 
extremities ; but more often it is open at both ends. The 
opening opposite to that by which the animal enters so 
frequently to accomplish its work is allowed to remain 
very small. It is constructed with the utmost care ; not 
one blade of grass projects beyond another; the surface 
is glued and polished with the most minute precautions, to 
render the passage easy. 

If the different species of the true sticklebacks act in 
exactly the same manner, the method of working differs in 
some species of the great division of thorn-backed fishes. 
The male in every species is always the sole architect, and 
he shows no less skill, no less vigilance than the true 
stickleback. He fixes his nest at a certain height from 
the bottom, among the stems or on the leaves of the 
plants which interlace in the waters. He makes choice 
of most delicate materials — water weeds, very light or very 
delicate filaments of herbs. He carries these to the place 
where he intends to construct his little edifice ; taking 
wonderful care to make them stick to the vegetables on 
which they are to remain, and to prevent them from being 
carried away by the stream. He employs in this case the 
same means as the stickleback, fixing the materials with 
mucous fluid by rubbing them with his body. When the 
mass of herbs and weeds is large enough, the fish forces 
himself into the middle with his snout ; he is soon half 
buried, but continues to advance more and more, working 
with his dorsal spines, which separate the filaments one 
from the other. At length he makes his exit by an open- 



80 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

ing opposite to that at which he entered. At this moment 
the nest has taken its definite form, and may be compared 
to a muff. The edifice is finished when the walls of the 
tube are lined and the entrance smoothed. All this is 
done by the same means as we have seen are employed 
by the stickleback. 

The vital energies of the sticklebacks rank high. They 
can endure a direct transfer from fresh to salt water, a 
change which would kill many fish. 

Sticklebacks and thornbacks are not the only fish which 
imitate birds in making nests for their eggs. Gold-fish 
construct their nests with leaves ; but sometimes a hole 
is dug in the river bank. The father and the mother 
watch in turns with devoted attention, and defend with 
courage their future family. This display of parental 
feeling is to be especially noted, as it is exceedingly rare 
among fish. 

Other marks of intelligence show themselves in these 
animals. We know that it is the character of intelligent 
beings to live in society. The perch is eminently sociable. 
A great number of these fish form a shoal, as if a sort of 
treaty had been signed between them. In a time of calm 
we may observe them in large bodies in a lake, a river, or 
under banks, where they keep themselves near the surface 
of the water, and are stationary. But their sense of hearing 
is very acute, and the least unaccustomed sound makes 
them take to flight. They disappear rapidly, and flee to 
some spot which is the common hiding-place of the whole. 
They have been found twenty or thirty in the same place, 
and in certain cases all have been taken, one after the 
other. 

Other fishes show an address which surpasses that of 



FISH. 8l 

the most intelligent men. A species of the chaetodon^* 
better known under the name of the shooting-fish {Chelmon 
rostratus), has a very long narrow tube projecting from its 
head. It frequents the shores of the sea and the banks of 
rivers to obtain food. " When," said Dr. Jonathan Franklin, 
" it sees a fly perched upon a water plant, it swims up to 
within the distance of four, five, or six feet, then, with a 
wonderful dexterity, shoots from its mouth a drop of water, 
which never fails to strike the fly and knock it into the sea, 
where it becomes a prey to its enemy." 

The recital of a deed so very uncommon roused the 
curiosity of the governor of the hospital of Batavia, in the 
isle of Java. The fact was attested by credible witnesses, 
but he refused to believe such reports. He ordered a large 
jug to be filled with sea-water, and, having many of the 
fishes, placed them in the jug, changing the water every 
day. In a short time they were reconciled to their state of 
captivity ; then the governor resolved to commence his 
experiment. He took a slender rod, at the end of which 
he fixed a fly with a pin, then placed this stick on the 
side of the vessel, so that the fish might see the insect. It 
was with a sentiment of inexpressible joy that he saw these 
fishes exercise their power in shooting with a marvellous 
velocity at the fly, never missing their mark. 

The jack, or pike, of our rivers, gives signs of intelli- 
gence and of sentiment. " Do not smile at this, alliance of 
words," said Dr. Franklin. " The sentiment of the pike ! 
Are not the most ferocious mammalia often those which 
show themselves most capable of attachment and intimate 
association with man ? Why should it not be thus with 
the finny tribe ?" The following anecdote was read, in 1850, 

* A word signifying fine teeth, like bristles. 

G 



82 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

before a learned assembly, the Literary and Philosophical 
Society of Liverpool : — 

" When I lived at Durham," read Dr. Warwick, " I was 
walking one evening in a park belonging to the Earl of 
Stamford, along the bank of a lake where fishes abounded. 
My attention was turned towards a fine jack of about 61bs.; 
which, seeing me, darted into the middle of the water. In 
its flight it struck its head against the stump of a post, 
fractured its skull, and wounded a part of the optic nerve. 
The animal gave signs of ungovernable pain, plunged to the 
bottom of the water, burying its head in the mud, and 
turning with such rapidity that I lost it for a moment ; then 
it returned to the top, and threw itself clean out of the 
water on to the bank. I examined the fish, and found 
that a small part of the brain had gone out through the 
fracture of the cranium. 

"I carefully replaced the shattered brain, and, with a 
small silver tooth-pick, raised the depressed parts of the 
skull. The fish was very quiet during the operation ; then 
I replaced it in the porid. It seemed at first relieved, but 
after some minutes it threw itself about, plunged here and 
there, and at last threw itself once more out of the water. 
It- continued thus to ^act many times following. I called 
the keeper, and, with his assistance, applied a bandage to 
the fracture. This done, we threw the fish into the water, 
and left him to his fate. The next morning, when I ap- 
peared on the bank, the pike came to me near where I sat, 
and put his head near my feet ! I thought the act extra- 
ordinary, but taking up the fish, without any resistance on 
its part, I examined the head, and found that it was going 
on well I then walked along the banks for some' time; 
the fish did not cease to swim after me, turning when I 




G 2 



FISH. 85 

turned; but as it was blind on the side where it was 
wounded, it appeared always agitated when the injured eye 
was turned towards the bank. On this, I changed the 
direction of my movements. The next day I brought some 
young friends to see this fish, and the pike swam towards 
me as before. Little by little he became so tame that he 
came when I whistled, and ate from my hand. With other 
people, on the contrary, it was as gloomy and fierce as it 
always had been." 

"The history of this knowing pike is a hint from 
nature," says Dr. Franklin, " and suggests some new ideas 
of faculties which may be given to fishes. It is to be re- 
gretted that the element in which fishes live is such that we 
are not able to make an intimate acquaintance with them. 
It would be ridiculous to say that the barrier is passable ; 
but in certain cases, as we see, it is not man who goes to 
the fish, it is the fish which comes to man." 

Another sign of the intelligence of animals is their 
capability of being tamed. The cod-fish — who will believe 
it ? — is one of the fishes which appreciates the society and 
the caresses of man. It may be taken in the hands, and 
caressed, if you do not forget to flatter its appetite with 
some victuals. Oh, the mighty stomach ! 

It is often to the smallest beings that we must look for 
intelligence. Certain small fishes • called sea-horses {Hippo- 
campus), which live in the Mediterranean, and whose habits 
have been closely observed by Mr. Lukis, have given mani- 
fest signs of intelligence. This observer kept in a glass 
Vessel two female sea-horses. " I saw that these fishes 
sought a place for repose. I satisfied their desires by 
placing in the vessel the stems of some sea- weed; this 
was what they wanted. They then displayed their true 



&6 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

habits, and I ought to say that no inhabitants of the deep 
show themselves more acute than the sea-horses. When 
they swim, these fishes preserve a vertical position, but 
their tail is ready to seize upon whatever is found in the 
water, often clinging to the reeds, the fish thus holding 
on with their tails. Once fixed, the animal observed all the 
objects around, and darted on the prey with great dexterity. 
When one approached the other, they often interlaced 
their tails, and it was only after much struggling that they 
could separate themselves. When they came to the end of 
a reed, they would hold on even by the lower part of the 
cheek, or chin. They acted in the same manner when they 
wanted to rest their bodies, or when they desired to fix their 
tail upon some new object." 

The shark, whose fierce instinct and ferocity are pro- 
verbial, may be tamed. Lacepede, in whom we do not put 
much trust, in spite of his genius, said that sharks become 
gentle under certain circumstances, and show affections very 
different from their usual destructive tendencies. 

The skate, which we believe is little capable of tender- 
ness, is, however, if we trust Lacepede, susceptible of great 
attachment, scarcely any being having more fidelity, and 
none proving more constant in love. 

It is said that necessity is the mother of invention ; we 
may learn that it is the mother of intelligence also. There 
is not a being so barbarous but it may be modified in its 
habits, and its talent developed, according to circumstances. 

An intelligence peculiar to the finny tribe, leads them to 
select food suitable to the seasons of the year. The most 
tempting fly presented to a fish, when it is not in season, 
will be refused ; and again, you may offer it at certain hours 
of the day, when the fish will care but little for it Say if 



FISH. 87 

turbots want intelligence, which plough up the sand in 
furrows, or dig themselves refuges at the bottom of the sea 
in which to hide themselves from their enemies. Is the eel 
foolish, which goes out at night from the bottom of the 
mud and travels over the meadows to surprise the sleeping 
worms ? Do you treat as among simpletons that gilt-head, 
which lives in the depths of the water, and affects a good- 
natured air to entice the little fishes round him without mis- 
trust ? At the moment when they are within his reach he 
stretches forth his extensible snout, and, in an instant, 
swallows the unwary. Observe, also, the long -beaked 
banded-fish, or the wary dart-fish, which slily approaches 
the flies, shoots them with water, and never misses them ! 

Do you say that fishes have less sensibility than man ? 
It seems true ; but take the answer from Sir Walter Scott : 
" It is a delicate question, and one which fishes alone would 
be able to solve." Are they less happy than the more in- 
telligent beings ? Listen to Virey : " Fishes digest easily, 
are not affected by variation of temperature, neither by in- 
equality of living, neither from loss by perspiration, from 
any derangement of body, blood, or humours." Some 
philosophers assert that fish have not, like man, heartaches 
which cripple life, disappointments, or passions to torment 
them ; that they are not elated with lively pleasures, or de- 
pressed by profound grief; and have as temperate a nature as 
the medium in which they live. These enthusiastic naturalists 
urge that the proud repose of the stoic, and the soft luxury of 
the epicurean, are the fruits of reason, while the quiet joys 
of the phlegmatic temperament belong to the fishes ; that 
reason is not so sure a barrier against passions as apathy of 
body; and so aquatic animals will always have the advantage 
over terrestrial, and live proportionately longer. 



BIRDS. 

MISTAKES ABOUT BIRDS — THEIR BRAINS, SIGHT, HEARING, 

TASTE, AND SMELL HOME INSTINCTS — MUSCULAR POWER 

RESPIRATION — TEMPERATURE BIRDS OF PASSAGE 

BIRDS IN SPRING THEIR COLOURS — INTELLIGENCE OF 

THE FEMALE — THEIR HEROISM IN DEFENCE OF THE 

YOUNG ENERGY OF THE SPARROW — BIRDS CLASSED 

ACCORDING TO THEIR INTELLIGENCE — BIRD LANGUAGE 
TOOLS OF BIRDS j FEET AND BEAKS. 

Who has not often heard it said of a frivolous and incon- 
siderate person, " She has the head of a linnet ?" 

Popular common sense is sometimes mistaken in its 
comparisons, but this is essentially just. This charming 
little bird, with a fine delicate head, manifests, indeed, but 
little intelligence and reflection. In vain its beauty seeks 
to atone for its want of sense. Light-headed the linnet is 
called, light-headed it will remain. But this bird is not the 
only one which we accuse of want of sense. Our rhetoric 
makes use of a number of comparisons regarding the 
winged tribe, which we are only too ready to adopt. We 
are constantly saying, "stupid as a turkey," "silly as a 
snipe," " foolish as a buzzard." 

We associate such an idea of imbecility with birds, that 
when we wish to taunt or ridicule each other, we make use 
of such terms as " goose," &c. 

We lay all our bad passions on these innocent creatures. 
We call the owl untamable and taciturn ; the heron sad 



BIRDS. 89 

and melancholy ; the gull is insatiable and clamorous ; the 
magpie inquisitive, boasting, and thievish. To hear our 
language, one would say birds must be essentially a race of 
degraded creatures. But it is not so. Science, wiser than 
imagination, has declared that birds have not such little 
brains as we have been led to suppose. 

It has been proved that the brain of the canaries excels, 
in proportion to the bulk of their bodies, that of man. We 
know well that, in a general way, the brain of birds is not 
so voluminous as that of the mammalia ; the hemispheres 
are deficient in circumvolutions, and are not so well de- 
veloped. And here again we find that the intellectual 
manifestations are in proportion to the extent of the cerebral 
organs. The brain of the ostrich is not larger than that of 
*he barn-cock. The goose and turkey have very small 
brains. But the disproportion of the brain compared with 
the bulk of the body is most remarkable in the whole order 
of coast-birds. These are the most savage, and the least 
susceptible of being tamed. In the order of rapacious birds 
the cerebral mass sensibly increases, especially amongst 
the falcons ; this increase, however, is most manifest in the 
night birds of prey, whose heads are very large. 

The following is a scale of the size of the brain com- 
pared with the bulk of the body, in some birds and mammalia. 
On examining this list it will be seen that the most intelli- 
gent of the larger animals have not so large a brain as we 
should expect. In truth, it will be found that the degree of 
intelligence is not always in proportion to the cerebral mass. 
The brain of the canary is equal in bulk to i-i4th of the 
body; barn-cock, i-25th; sparrow, i-25th; chaffinch, i-27th; 
robin, i-32nd; blackbird, i-68th; duck, i-256th ; eagle, 
1-2 60th; goose, 1 -360th. In man the brain varies from 



90 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS 

i-22nd of the body to i-32nd; the higher apes, i-3oth; 
cat, i-Q4th; the dog, i-i6ist; the horse, i -400th ; and the 
elephant, 1 -500th. 

Few animals have the brain more developed than the 
parrots. The cerebral mass of the graminivorous and the 
insectivorous birds is, in proportion to the weight of the 
body, as great as that of man. It is easily understood, 
then, that intelligence may not be so rare among birds as 
some have supposed. They are certainly much superior to 
many of the insectivora, the kangaroos, the bats, the 
rodentia, and to most of the ruminants. 

We are often greatly at fault when we study animals. 
We always wish to compare their organisation with ours. 
We say they are less perfect than we are, because such and 
such organs are less developed in them than in us ; this is 
a great error. Each creature is perfect with regard to its 
kind, or the requirements of its state of existence, and 
often possesses much which another wants. Thus, birds are 
admirably endowed with the sense of sight. It is supposed 
that there is a direct correspondence between the extent of 
vision and the rapidity of flight. The eagle, hawk, vulture, 
and all the other birds of prey, with the exception of the 
night birds, survey an horizon much more extensive than 
man can. 

" The martin," said Belon, " perceives a gnat distinctly at 
the distance of five hundred yards, darts upon it, and carries 
it off in the twinkling of an eye, with unequalled dexterity. 
The kite, which hovers in the air, far beyond our sight, 
easily perceives a dead fish floating on the surface of 
the water, or the imprudent field-mouse just coming out of 
its hole." 

Birds, surveying with a single glance a considerable 



BIRDS. 01 

extent of country, are often obliged to adapt their powers of 
sight, according to the position in which they find them- 
selves, either on the earth or in the air. Their eyes are 
naturally long-sighted, except those of the aquatic birds, 
and the crystalline lens is more flattened than in the 
mammalia. To enable them to see from a great distance 
they possess a particular organ, enabling them to give the 
eye a high telescopic power. The bird's eye is, in fact, a 
self-adjusting telescope, which can also become a micro- 
scope. The bird has a third eyelid, which, acting between 
the other two, covers the ball of the eye, and moves over it 
incessantly, to keep it clean and brilliant like an eye-glass ; 
this lid serves also for a curtain against the dazzling rays of 
light. It is probable that an eye so well organised is 
admirably adapted to the wants of birds in their periodical 
voyages to far-off countries. This third eyelid is called the 
nictating membrane, is semi-transparent, and, when not in 
use, is neatly folded up in the inner corner of the eye. It 
is rapidly drawn across the eye by two muscles, and returns 
to the resting-place by its own elastic action. The tele- 
scopic power of the vulture's eye was shown by actual 
experiment a few years ago. Some naturalists stuffed the 
dried skin of a deer with hay and left it on a prairie ; in a 
short time a number of black specks were seen far up in the 
sky; these became larger and larger, and at length were found 
to be a troop of vultures rapidly descending towards the 
spot where the stuffed deer lay. The birds at length 
alighted, approached the skin, and struck their beaks into 
the leathery substance. After hovering about for some 
considerable time, apparently in great astonishment, the vul- 
tures flew off slowly and sadly. Now it seems clear that, 
in this case, the birds must have seen the stuffed deer-skin 



92 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

from a height in the air at which they were invisible to 
the human eye. Smell could have had nothing to do with 
the result. 

Next to the sight, hearing appears to be the second 
sense of birds — that is to say, second in perfection. Hear- 
ing is not only more perfect than the smell, taste, and touch 
of birds, but even more perfect than the hearing of quad- 
rupeds. We see this proved by the readiness with which 
some birds repeat a long succession of sounds, and even of 
words. It happened that we took away a nest of sparrows 
from beneath the roof of a cottage, and placed it on a 
balcony, before the young were old enough to call for their 
parents. The father and mother did not, in this case, 
recognise their nest by sight ; but in another experiment, 
when the little ones were able to call out, the parents dis- 
tinguished their voices, and brought them food. Here the 
sense of hearing exceeded that of sight. Many birds are 
accused of being completely deaf, especially those having 
large bills. But we all know that such birds possess voices ; 
were they deaf, they would necessarily be dumb. We have 
seen that there is a correspondence between the sense of 
seeing and the rapidity of flight ; the same harmony also 
exists between the organs of speech and hearing in all 
animals, especially birds. The sense of touch also belongs 
to birds. Buffon says that they have more feeling than 
quadrupeds, that the sense of touch in their claws is strong, 
as they continually use them for grasping. Nevertheless, 
he adds that the inside of a bird's claw being always lined 
with a hard, callous skin, the touch cannot be very delicate, 
nor the sensations which it produces acute. 

Birds are certainly not creatures of taste. Dame 
Nature would have it so, and with good reason. If these 



BIRDS. 93 

animals, destined to produce an amount of heat superior 
to ours, had been gifted with delicate palates, they would 
have been too fastidious for their proper food, and would 
never have eaten enough to keep up a suitable degree of 
temperature. 

Birds do not masticate, but swallow their food unchewed. 
This matters little to them, for the horny nature of most of their 
tongues unfits them for tasting. But many birds show much 
skill in the use of their wonderfully formed tongues. The 
humming-bird turns the organ into an admirable pump, by 
which it sucks up the juices of flowers; and the woodpeckers 
use their tongues as darts to transfix insects. These birds 
are compelled to employ a complex machinery of small 
bones, by which the tongue is lengthened and directed on 
the prey. 

The sense of smelling does not appear to be well 
developed amongst birds, a great number of them having 
no nostrils — that is to say, no open tubes on the beak, so 
that they cannot smell, except by means of the interior cleft 
in the mouth. Those which are furnished with nostrils 
enjoy a more highly developed sense of smelling than the 
others ; nevertheless, the olfactory nerves are proportionally 
smaller, less numerous, and less extensive than in quadru- 
peds. Some have been tempted to explain by the sense of 
smell, certain singular faculties in birds. Indeed, how else 
can we account, say they, for the marvellous return of the 
carrier-pigeon, which is taken in a close vessel from its native 
home to a distance of three hundred miles, across countries 
quite unknown, and which, as soon as liberated, has no 
difficulty in returning to its home ? How can we explain 
the fact of a messenger-pigeon, which, being sent from 
Toulouse in a covered basket, when set at liberty, knew 



94 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



perfectly well how to return to the place of its departure ? 
Is it to one of the senses, or to a peculiar intelligence that 
we must attribute this faculty ? Assuredly it is not due to 
hearing, to touch, nor to taste. Is it due to the sense of 
sight or smelling ? There may be doubts as to the pigeon 
shut up in the basket, but as to the one which was carried 
in a close vase, it is evident that the poor winged animal, 
had it the scent of a dog, would never have been able to 
return direct home by the aid of its nose. The phenomena 
cannot be otherwise explained than by the general sensi- 
bility of the bird. Launched in the atmosphere, it follows 
the direction of its sensations, and knows what route must 

be taken to reach the north 
or the south. Its sensibility 
serves for a compass, and also 
for a thermometer. 

A carrier-pigeon taken out 
by the Arctic discoverer, Sir 
John Ross, in 1850, from its 



dovecot in Scotland, was let 
loose at Wellington Sound, 
within the Arctic circle, on 
October 6th, and reached its 
former home in Ayrshire in 
seven days, having flown two thousand miles across the 
Atlantic. No one will venture to assert that the pigeon 
could see its distant dovecot through two thousand miles of 
atmosphere. Such marvellous feats performed by birds 
cannot be explained by " our philosophy." 

Toussenel cites an example of a goldfinch that every 
week quitted its native town, situated in Picardy, for Paris, 
carrying a notice to prepare its master's apartments. 




The Carrier Pigeon flying straight 
for home. 



BIRDS. 95 

With a large brain birds could not hover lightly and 
easily in the air. It could not be expected, then, that this 
organ should have the same development as the organs of 
locomotion. What a bird requires is moving power ; and 
for this it is beautifully adapted, by its muscular and nervous 
system. 

By the aid of the microscope anatomists have discovered 
in the brain and marrow many kinds of little cells. Some 
affect the functions of sensibility, others of motion ; the 
latter being complex and much larger than the others, and 
serving especially for muscular contraction. We observe, 
then, that these are, in proportion, more numerous in the 
bird than in other vertebrated animals, and this is evidently 
the cause of their rapid locomotion. The bird may lose in 
intelligence what it gains in motive power ; but its destiny 
is to fly, and therefore it has wings and high muscular 
energy — 

" Wings ! to bear me over 

Mountain and vale away ; 

Wings to soar above the sea 

In morning's sunny ray." 

" Nature," said Buffon, " in giving wings to birds, has 
bestowed upon them the attributes of independence and the 
means of perfect liberty. Thus no other home but the 
sky is suitable to them. They foresee the vicissitudes and 
changes of climate, in anticipating the seasons ; they do not 
settle in any place till they have assured themselves of the 
temperature. Most arrive only when the soft breath of 
spring has clothed the forests with verdure; when it has 
drawn forth the fruits necessary for their nourishment ; when 
they can settle, take shelter, and conceal themselves in the 
shade; and when, Nature developing the power of love, 



cS 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



heaven and earth seem to combine for their pleasure and 
happiness." 

As nothing is imperfect in the formation of a living crea- 
ture, everything being adapted to its condition and the end 
it has to attain, so the structure of a bird presents a light 



i j 




The Goldfinch giving notice of his Master's arrival. 

frame. Destined to live in the air, it must have less weight 
than the fish which is supported in the water, or the mam- 
malia which mostly pass their lives on the land. All has 
been so wonderfully foreseen and calculated, that, as the 
birds advance in age, gaining form and bulk, the bones 
become lighter and more cell-like, enabling them to take 



BIRDS. 97 

more air into the interior, so that the atmosphere, which is 
the element most essential to the bird, penetrates nearly 
every part of its body, and enables the creature, above all 
others, to inhale the most oxygen. Microscopic investiga- 
tions have demonstrated that the cells in the bones of some 
birds measure but i -5000th of an inch in diameter. The 
tubes in the bones, called the Haversian canals, from their 
discoverer, Mr. Clapton Havers, are also both numerous and 
minute. We know that in the mammalia there is between 
the pulmonary and abdominal regions a division called the 
diaphragm ; this division limits, in some degree, the expan- 
sion of the lungs. In birds, on the contrary, the membrane 
is open, porous, and small, affording a free passage to the 
inhaled air. This air, penetrating into all the cavities, fills 
the little cells, which, pressed by the muscles, perform the 
office of bellows, and promote the work of respiration. It 
results from this peculiar structure, that the blood, thus 
heated and rendered more fluid and exciting by the oxygen, 
gives to the movements of birds that quickness of action, 
that joyous impetuosity and lightness which charm us. This 
supply of air also enables them to extend the vibrations of 
the voice. This air carries life, health, and activity into the 
feathers, and thus these inhabitants of the atmosphere lose 
much of their relative weight. It is not, however, true that 
all birds thus diminish the weight of their bodies by filling 
the cavities of the bones with air. Dr. Crisp examined 
many skeletons in order to ascertain the truth in this 
matter, and found that, out of fifty-two species of British 
birds, only one was so formed as to admit air into its bones. 
This was the sparrow-hawk. Many of those which had no 
air-cells were birds of rapid flight. The skill and energy 
with which the bird strikes the air with its wings, end the 



98 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

peculiar angle at which these act, have more influence on 
power of flight than the air-cell. Few birds can justly be 
called " feathered balloons," as some naturalists have ven- 
tured to write. The condor of the Andes is able to support 
its vast body at the height of 20,000 feet above the sea, 
where the atmosphere is so rarefied that the barometer falls 
to fourteen inches. 

This abundant supply of oxygen gives to birds a 
degree of heat which manifests itself in all their actions. 
The temperature of man does not go beyond 98 ; in 
some birds it rises to 107 . Add to this elevation of 
temperature a heart provided, like man's, with four cavities, 
and you will be able to understand how the bird glows 
with the fire of life ; how it can face the most severe 
winters ; how, by aid of the air, which penetrates, warms, 
and dilates the organs, the bird can become lighter when 
occasion requires. The feathers, also, so well fitted to 
preserve this heat, assist in raising the creature to the 
higher regions, where the tyranny of man cannot reach. 
This warmer blood of birds renders them more sensitive, 
lively, and ardent. They seem always agitated, excited, 
and restless, sleeping but little. They have also the faults 
of this temperament, being fickle, inconstant, irascible, 
impetuous, and unreflecting. Their lively impressions want 
depth ; they feel rather than think. To instruct them it is 
necessary to isolate them, to deprive them of light, and 
keep them in a cage; The loss of their liberty is the only 
means by which they can be made to reflect. It is also 
necessary to choose the evening for teaching them. At 
this hour they are not excited by the light ; the shades of 
night oblige them to be quiet ; they are more attentive and 
better able to retain the air or words we wish them to repeat. 



BIRDS. 99 

Bird-catchers, and those who sell birds, sometimes 
destroy the eyes of nightingales and other singing-birds 
to improve their voices. It appears that these poor little 
creatures, deprived of sight, utter most melodious and 
touching sounds — for which reason some persons compare 
them to Homer and Milton. The singing of birds ! Is it 
not a convincing proof of their intelligence ? We hear a 
sparrow, a lark, a nightingale, a tomtit — we distinguish 
them easily, and recognise each by the modulations of 
the voice. Perhaps you will say that they sing thus natu- 
rally and instinctively, that they have never been taught 
and do not know what they say, and that there is nothing 
of feeling or intelligence in these vocal manifestations. 
Let us remark, first of all, that in every species each 
individual seems to make himself understood by the others. 
Every sound of the voice has a particular signification, 
which serves as a means of communication. If it were 
otherwise, how could those that live in companies under j 
stand one another ? How could they construct those nests 
which are so complicated and so artistically arranged ? How, 
in these works of architecture, would each have his task ? 
All work in common necessitates a mutual understanding. 

Let us now speak of the birds of passage. When they 
are about to pass from one climate to another, do they not 
assemble together ? To hear them, one would say it was 
a legislative assembly, where each speaks in turn, giving 
his opinion and his advice in the decision which is to be 
taken. During the journey, the emigrants, according to 
their authority or rank in the assembly, continue to make 
themselves heard, regulating the swiftness of the flight, so 
that those more feeble can follow the stronger, and recalling 
the wanderers. 

H 2 



100 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



Birds manifest most feeling, sentiment, and poetry in 
their language during the spring-time of life. Is it not the 
power of love — that sublime exaltation of the heart, that 
strong impulse of our being — which renders the most feeble 

strong, the most simple intel- 
ligent, and carries the sacred 
fire into the imagination of 
the dullest mind? Love is 
winged. The bird is all wing 
and all tenderness. With the 
joyousness of his songs, his 
sweet warblings, and the trem- 
bling of his wings, he comes 




Mi Sife- 




The Ostrich burying her Eggs in the Sand. 



to reproach us with our falsehood, our coldness, our mean 
selfishness, our miserable calculations, and our broken 
faith. He enters our dwellings, establishes himself in our 
gardens, instals himself under our roofs, to repeat to us, 
from morning till evening, " Love, love, love ; you must love 



BIRDS. IOI 

each other ; you must always love each other." But we 
have neither the intelligence nor strength of feeling to 
love each other as we ought. 

It is also in the spring that birds have their most beau- 
tiful dress and their brightest colours. 

Reviving Nature gives to animals festive dresses ; to the 
mammalia a more silky coat ; to the reptiles scales of a 
more brilliant hue ; to the birds most beautiful feathers. 
She nourishes the insect in the larva state, and reproduces 
it in the form of a gay butterfly, so that it is not only 
the corolla of plants that displays brilliant and variegated 
colours. 

The female, among birds, surpasses in intelligence the 
females of other animals. She is more considerate, more 
reflecting, and more provident. She chooses the situation 
for the nest, and knows how to modify it according to 
necessity and climate. The female ostrich buries in the 
funnel of sand, where the little ones are to be hatched a 
certain number of eggs for their first nourishment. 

In the Levant, a tomtit sewed together, with the aid of 
her beak and some thread, two leaves of a shrub, and estab- 
lished her family in this pocket of her own invention. All 
the perfections of a nest seem due to the intelligence of the 
female; the males being only admitted into this important 
construction as workmen. With certain birds, who live in 
pairs, a few of the males join in the task of incubation, as 
among the wood-pigeons, turtle-doves, and storks. Those 
who have not seen, says Toussenel, the turkey hen, the 
partridge, or duck defend their little ones, can have but 
a moderate idea of their heroism. A man who should 
display but once In the course of his career, as a citizen 
and patriot, a tenth part of the devotion that these poor 



102 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



creatures manifest continually, to secure the safety of a 
successful hatching, would have places of honour during his 
life, and statues after his death. A partridge who trails her 
wing, and pretends to be wounded in sight of the dog, and 

flies in his face to tear 
..* , - , out his eyes ; a magpie 

who puts to flight, by 
the violence of her re- 
sistance, the young 
spoiler of her nest ; the 
swan which will not 
allow a party to drink 
of the water belonging 
to her little ones — all 
these poor mothers, 
whose existence is but 
a long series of heroic 
acts and devotion^ would 
scarcely understand our 
admiration for the 
Athenian Codrus, or the 
Roman Curtius ! The 
tree sparrow {Accentor 
modular is), you say, is 
unbearable with always 
the same note ; it is not a song at all, only a chirp. But, 
listen to him in the spring ! The joyous bridegroom sings 
like a master. Love has made him a poet; it is no longer 
the careless pupil, always repeating the same note ; it is a 
musician, who attempts the most difficult passages. He 
gives his "do, re, mi," from the chest. He knows that 
to persuade he must be eloquent. He becomes so. 




The Magpie defending her Nest. 



BIRDS. IO3 

No sooner is the common house sparrow occupied in 
constructing the nest, than a new sentiment manifests itself 
in him — the love of offspring. He must think of providing 
a shelter for his little ones. This occupation makes even 
this sparrow a little thoughtful, but, no sooner has he picked 
up the first blade of straw than he is filled with joy. He 
returns a hundred times a day, carrying building material 
in his beak ; he chirps, as if he were pleased with himself, 
flies back again, returns to the meadows, goes, comes, and 
so on all day long, looking, without appearing to do so, to 
see if any one is at the window, or if there are enemies 
behind the curtain. The sparrow is better able to see 
you than you are to conceal yourself. Beneath the roof of 
our cottage were ten sparrows' nests, certainly not master- 
pieces ; the work was rough, the materials common, and 
the dimensions absurd. These nests are like sign-boards ; 
one would imagine the birds wished us to be deemed straw- 
merchants. But what signifies ? We would not prevent 
them building their nests on the house, but, as we were not 
in the habit of wearing helmets, we feared the misfortune 
that befel Tobias. For you know the sparrow is not very 
cleanly. " He is also," says Toussenel, " quarrelsome, a 
chatterer, tippler, jeerer, plunderer, babbler, impudent, 
familiar, riotous, and obstinate. Finally, he is driven, by 
incessant want to scorn the authority of and mystify the 
landlord. One bird was untidy enough to soil my sleeve 
with a piece of mortar he had detached from the eaves. I 
immediately sent for a joiner, telling him to cover every hole 
with boards, and employ all his ingenuity to prevent the 
smallest sparrow from penetrating any of the crevices to build 
his nest. The joiner worked all day against these volatile 
anarchists. Three days after the birds, by exploring the roof, 



104 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



by examining and watching, and by striking the planks with 
their beaks, had defeated the skill and precaution of my 
joiner. Then I sent for a mason, and begged him to stop 
up the smallest holes with plaster. I afterwards watched at- 
tentively myself, determined not to be played with again by 

those rogues of sparrows. 
I was soon convinced 
that it was impossible to 
baffle their skill when 
determined on nest- 
building. Two sparrows, 
more clear-sighted than 
the rest, in spite of all 
the precautions I had 
taken, and notwithstand- 
ing my constant presence 
at the window, were able 
to find a place for nests. 
They succeeded so well 
in penetrating the 
boards, that my own 
contrivance had enabled 
them to construct a snug 
dwelling, well -sheltered 
from the weather, and 
far out of my reach. I 
acknowledged myself completely vanquished, and left them 
in peace. I was, however, recompensed for my forbearance, 
by being witness of a very touching scene. When the little 
ones were able to come out of the nest, being perched ug 
so high, one of them tumbled on to the balcony and hurt 
itself, so that it could not fly. 




The Bird detaching a piece of the Mottar. 



BIRDS. I05 

" Then all the sparrows, from the neighbouring trees and 
hedge, from the oldest to the youngest, came on to the 
balcony, bringing to the poor little fellow, in their bills, the 
tenderest consolation. The young ones came while I was 
present, the old ones, more experienced and crafty, knew 
perfectly well at what time in the day I was absent, and did 
not fail to come and counsel the poor disabled bird. This 
lasted three days and nights, during which my sparrow re- 
tired on a chair to the corner of the balcony, slept peace- 
ably, having at his side two other large jolly fellows, to serve 
as sentinels. On the fourth day the little wounded one 
departed, joyous as a boy returning from school." 

Lacepede believed he could determine the amount of 
sensibility in birds by their constancy, and the great care 
they bestow upon the females and little ones, and he pro- 
poses the following distinctions, beginning with the lowest 
degree in the scale. 

ist Class. — Birds whose males forsake the females be- 
fore they are occupied in preparing the nest. 

2nd Class. — Those which leave the females while they 
are occupied in preparing the nest. 

$rd Class. — Those which assist the female in the build- 
ing of the nest. 

4th Class. — Those which guard and protect the females 
during incubation, bringing them food, and singing beside 
the nest. 

$ih Class. — Those which assist the females in the in- 
cubation. 

6th Class. — Those which take part with the female in 
rearing her young. 

jlh Class. — Those that prepare, in their crops, the food 
for their little ones. 



Io6 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

%th Class. — Those which live with their young, helping 
and defending them until able to take care of them- 
selves. 

He estimated also the amount of industry, according to 
the greater or less degree of perfection to which birds attain 
in the building of their nests. These last qualities, added to 
the degrees of sensibility, serve to distinguish the superior 
birds, which are thus classed : — 

ist Class. — Birds which do not build nests, but take 
possession of another's. 

2nd Class. — Those which compose their nests of rude 
materials, and join them without care. 

3rd Class. — Those whose nests are formed with materials 
chosen after examination, prepared with care, and brought 
from afar. 

4th Class. — Those which build nests with materials 
twined and woven together, with marvellous skill. 

$th Class. — Those showing particular research, attention, 
and discernment, in placing their nests in the most con- 
venient position at the extremity of a branch, or under the 
leaves, to preserve their little ones from danger. 

6th Class. — Those whose nests have a narrow entrance, 
an awning, winding entrances, and several compartments. 

jth Class. — Those which join with other couples, and 
build their nests in close proximity, to receive several 
families. 

Zth Class. — Lastly, those which form a numerous society, 
whose nests are covered with a common covering, due to a 
combination of good-will, resource, and skill. 

To establish a fair comparison between the species noted 
for industry and sensibility, we must observe the results of 
those two faculties in reference to the changes of climate, 



BIRDS. I07 

the elevation of the temperature during hatching, the solitude 
of the nest, the number of enemies, the power of defence, 
the swiftness of flight, and the form of the beak and claws, 
as instruments with which the bird can gather, prepare, and 
arrange the materials for the nest. 

For the brain to act vigorously, the blood, which stimu- 
lates and vivifies it, must be pure, and have a certain ele- 
vation of temperature and activity of circulation. Birds 
have these qualifications, and this is the reason that, 
notwithstanding the smallness of their brains in general, 
they are susceptible of great feeling, and have, at the 
same time, real intelligence. A creature with warm 
blood usually possesses a generous heart, is active and 
intelligent. 

Eloquence amongst men is often mixed with vanity, or 
a desire to appear clever, a wish to persuade, that they may 
rule and sometimes tyrannise over others. With birds, 
eloquence is a sign of tenderness and affection. I approach 
a nest, the mother flies away, raising cries of distress ; she 
alights on some neighbouring tree and sings at the highest 
pitch of her voice, to draw my attention and attract me 
towards herself, that I may leave the path near her family. 
I take one of her little ones ; the song changes, the sound 
is more melancholy, and the sentiment of sadness is con- 
veyed by a different language. 

Birds possess a common language ; but when they are in 
love they must express their passion, and even add rhythm 
and intonation. They are poets of all kinds ! Some adopt 
the trivial style, their songs are short but noisy. In this 
manner crows the cock on the dunghill, in the midst of the 
hens. The chaffinch has a more elevated poetry. The 
lark while soaring in the air, sings a hymn on the beauties 



-^ 



I08 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

of nature. The nightingale overcomes the greatest diffi- 
culties both in poetry and singing. 

Dupont was asked how one could learn the languages 
of animals, and from it form an idea of their feelings. He 
replied that the first step towards success was to carefully 
observe the animals, and remark if the sounds uttered 
seemed to have a meaning amongst themselves. 

When we live familiarly with animals, if they are the 
least susceptible, it is impossible not to be convinced that 
they have a language. There is passion in the song of birds, 
but it is combined with intelligence. Toussenel, who occu- 
pied himself with much perseverance and success in noting 
the expression of emotion, proves that the most intelligent 
birds are those which sing best, and whose sojourn is near 
to man. " Song," said he, " the perfume of the soul, and 
privileged language of tender hearts, not only suggests 
the past, but is also the special joy of the present hour. 
The song of birds carries praise from earth to heaven, 
acknowledges the goodness of the Creator, and is gratitude 
poured forth in melody." 

The vulgar make a great mistake in thinking the female 
has no voice. In her infancy she has, like her brothers, 
gone through a course of vocal music, and she must have a 
certain knowledge of music to enjoy the charming songs 
that are sung to her day by day. The females express 
themselves perfectly in passionate language, when the fancy 
takes them, or when they are condemned to solitude. 

Everybody has had the opportunity of seeing, in some 
humble dwelling, a poor little canary which tries to pass the 
weary hours away by singing, but very quickly gives up this 
sad employment of her time when she becomes the mother 
of a family. So, a young lady devoted to the piano before 



BIRDS. IO9 

her marriage, often neglects it afterwards. As the male 
excels the female in strength, vigour, and brightness of 
plumage, it is natural that she should be much superior in 
grace and intelligence, distinguished by a more slender and 
delicate form, finer sinews, and more flexible beak and 
claws ; and to her, also, nature has given the charge of the 
most artistic and most important domestic functions, which 
comprehend the building of the nest and the education of 
the family. 

Johnson, in an article in his " Idler," said : " Many na- 
turalists believe that animals, regarded as dumb by the 
uneducated, have the faculty of communicating their ideas 
one to another. That they express general sensations is 
quite certain. Each being who can make any sound, has a 
different voice for pleasure or for pain. The hound warns 
his companions when he scents the game ; the hen, by her 
clucking, calls her young chickens around her for their food, 
and recalls them from danger by her cries." Birds possess 
the greatest variety of notes. This truth would certainly be 
sufficient on which to compose a discourse, if we wished to 
do so. Superstition or curiosity has always shown itself 
attentive to the cries of birds, as well as to their flight. 
Many men have studied the language of the feathered tribes, 
and some boast of understanding it. Naturalists have dis- 
puted whether the peculiar song of each kind of bird was 
an innate gift or an acquired faculty. Dr. Gall, a dis- 
tinguished observer, is said to have taken a nightingale and 
isolated it from its companions. " The bird," said he, " did 
not sing the less on that account, and knew the scale of 
notes peculiar to his family." This bird, then, must have 
had his music in himself. Some facts, however, seem to 
contradict this. Barrington took from a nest a common 



110 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

sparrow already fledged. He put it to school, if one may 
use the expression, with a singing-master, who was a linnet. 
The sparrow profited by the lessons of his teacher; but, 
by chance, the pupil heard a goldfinch, and his song soon 
became a mixture of the sounds of the two birds. This 
same experimenter put a robin under the tuition of a night- 
ingale, the latter, however, soon lost its voice, and became 
perfectly mute in less than a fortnight. Nevertheless, the 
young robin sang three out of four parts in the tune of the 
nightingale, and the rest of his song was what bird-fanciers 
call unconnected — that is to say, in no fixed key. These 
experiments are very interesting, because they prove that 
all beings have a language peculiar to their organisation; 
a language of instinct, and also an acquired language, con- 
nected with their education and intelligence. The mistake 
that some make in studying the song of birds is, that they 
expect to find in their vocal expression an echo of human 
ideas and sentiments. The song of birds is certainly a 
language ; but it is a language peculiar to themselves, which 
corresponds with their organisation, their habits, and mode 
of life. 

The Tools of the Birds. — An excellent implement, 
which varies with the different orders of animals, serves as a 
tool for the brain. In man it is the hand. This organ, of 
such marvellous construction, is evidently designed to serve 
the finest thought and the most elevated intellect. By 
means of this, man can weigh, measure, design, translate 
his thoughts, and give to his conceptions a form as readily 
as he can express his ideas by words. This hand, which 
characterises so well the superior intellect of man, differs 
from the paw, which is the corresponding organ in beasts, 
by the position of the thumb and the other fingers. The 



BIRDS. Ill 

power of seizing, which is the beginning of manual skill, 
implies the opposition of the thumb with the fingers. 

The foot of the bird is the best instrument of its 
intellect, and the more perfect this member is, the more it 
approaches the hand of man, and indicates a developed 
brain and intellect in the bird. 

Thus the foot of a water-fowl, which is the least intelli- 
gent of the winged animals, is most unlike the hand of a 
man. The thumb, when there is one, has a direct position 
like the fingers; it thus has a tendency to separate from the 
fingers instead of joining them. The foot of the water- 
fowl is not adapted for grasping ; very few species of this 
order can perch. With the "marsh birds the power of grasp- 
ing becomes less rare ; one, indeed, is endowed with the 
ability of seizing, like the parrot and birds of prey. Others 
use their feet as weapons, like the game cock and the emu 
of Australia, which is said to be able to break a man's leg 
by a blow with its foot. However, the direct plan of 
thumb and finger is the general rule for web-footed and 
stilted birds. With birds of the poultry kind, or gallinaceous 
order, the rule is not the same. About three -fourths of 
those are able to perch, an act which implies that of grasp- 
ing, and also of opposition between the front and back part 
of the foot ; those birds use this power only to seek a refuge 
from their enemies, and to roost for the night. 

Some of the species use their feet for striking, and many 
for scratching the soil ; as, for instance, the hen, and all of 
that family. There are some that do more, even raising 
little hillocks of earth by the strength of their feet. Others 
collect grass and heap it together to make places for hatch- 
ing, thus considerably extending the functions of their claws. 
Nor must we forget the powerful tools provided in the 



112 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

diversified beaks of birds. The wide opening bill acts as 
a net to catch insects ; the suctorial beak of the sun bird is 
a pump ; the finches and crows have a pick-axe and berry- 
cracker in their cone-shaped bills; those of the butcher 
birds form tenacious gripping machines; and the beak of 
the parrot is a hand. 

Thus the skilful use of the beak and foot, and the near 
approach of the latter to a hand, show the degree of intel- 
ligence in birds. The parrot is the most intelligent of 
the flying birds, and possesses in the foot a superior 
hand, like that of the monkey, or of man — a hand 
which conveys food to the mouth. The clever author of 
the "World of Birds" asserts that the intelligence of the 
parrot is in direct connection with the perfection of its foot. 
"The faculties of the parrot," says he, "are in proportion 
.to its manual skill. The capacity of the brain is greater 
than in any other bird. The beak, which answers the 
purpose of a third hand, and of which the two mandibles 
are movable, is the most perfect of all the organs of this 
kind. Its propensity to imitate man and speak his language, 
its prodigious memory, aptitude for learning, taste for fruits, 
and longevity, make its superiority undeniable." Let us, 
then, commence the particular study of the intelligence of 
birds, with the parrot 



THE PARROT. 

The intelligence of the parrot is misunderstood. According 
to vulgar prejudice this bird is nothing better than a 
chatterer, a senseless creature, an animal without an idea of 
its own, and destitute of all judgment. Nevertheless, the 
parrots occupy among the birds the rank which quadrumana 
hold in the class of mammalia. The brain is more developed 
than in other feathered creatures, and, as we have already- 
shown, we find in them intellectual manifestations. Buffon, 
who so unwillingly admits intelligence in animals, has, in 
his chapter on parrots, discoursed at some length on the 
question of their intellectual faculties. " These birds," he 
says, "which have every facility for talking, are deficient in 
that intelligence which aids the high faculty of language. 
They are deprived of this, like all other animals, by their 
rapid development in early life, and by the short duration of 
their intercourse with their parents, whose cares are limited 
to their bodily education, and are not continued long enough 
to produce any durable or reciprocal impressions, or to 
establish family union, the first element of all society, and 
one great source of all intelligence." It is certain that all 
social relations assist the development of intellect ; but, 
above all, to become intelligent it is necessary to have a 
well-organised brain, and we must not expect in creatures, 
whose cerebral organs differ from ours, intellectual mani- 
festations equal to our own. Again, although animals have 
not the same intelligence as we have, yet some organs are 

i 



114 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

more perfect than ours ; they are not, then, so very unlike 
us ; and we, like them, are animals. 

BurTon fys that the faculty of imitating our speech and 
gestures does not give any pre-eminence to animals which 
are endowed with this natural talent. According to BurTon, 
the monkey which gesticulates, and the parrot which repeats 
our words, are not capable of becoming more intelligent, 
and of improving their species. This talent, indeed, serves. 
to render the parrot more interesting, but does not give 
him any superiority over other birds, excepting that, pos- 
sessing more than others the power of imitating speech, 
he must have the sense of hearing and the organs of the 
voice more like those of man. This power, which the parrot 
eminently possesses, is found in some degree in many other 
birds whose tongues are thick, round, and almost the same 
in form as that of the parrot. Starlings, blackbirds, jays, 
and jackdaws can imitate natural sounds. Those which 
have the tongue forked, like most of our small birds, whistle 
more easily than they chatter. Those in whom this natural 
organization for whistling is united with an acute sense of 
hearing and strong memory, learn easily to repeat airs and 
whistle musically. The canary, linnet, siskin, and bullfinch 
seem to be musicians by nature. 

If any animal, the parrot for example, has the brain and 
senses more developed than other creatures, it will be more 
intelligent than other animals, and the intelligence will be 
susceptible of some improvement, according to the educa- 
tion it receives, and the passions which are more or less 
called into play. Beings which have the faculties of feeling, 
of remembering their sensations, of expressing them in a 
language more or less developed, but always in harmony 
with their joys, sorrows, anger, or passion, must they not be 



THE PARROT. 115 

intelligent ? Buffon says, " The parrot, either from a 
defect in his organs, or from a want of memory, can 
only utter cries or short phrases, and can neither sing 
nor repeat modulated sounds. Nevertheless, it imitates all 
the noises it hears, the mewing of cats, the barking of 
dogs, and the cries of birds, as easily as it counterfeits 
speech. It can articulate sounds, but cannot modulate or 
sustain them by cadences. This proves that it has less 
memory, less flexibility of the organs, and a throat as dry 
and rough as that of the singing birds is soft and tender." 
The parrot, however, is not deficient in memory ; it re- 
collects the voices of many animals, and counterfeits them. 
The parrot, not having a brain so fully developed as that of 
man, does not possess our intellectual faculties, much less 
our language ; but he has his own, which agrees perfectly 
with his organization. Buffon adds, " We must distinguish 
between two sorts of imitation — the one reflective, the other 
mechanical, and without intention ; the former is acquired, 
the latter, so to speak, is innate. This is but the result of 
common instinct, by which all seem to be induced or con- 
strained to do the v same thing. The more stupid animals 
are the more perfect in this imitation. A sheep always does, 
and ever will do, only what is done by the other sheep ; the 
last cell of a bee exactly resembles the first. The entire 
species has no more sense than a single individual, and in 
this consists the difference between intellect and instinct. 
Natural imitation is, in every species, but the result of a 
blind necessity." Undoubtedly, every being in each species 
having a like organization, is driven by this organization to 
similar manifestations; but what is not less certain is the 
fact that with birds, as in every other kind of animals, there 
are some which have a superior organization and more in- 

1 2 



Il6 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

telligence, It is this which enables the bees to modify the 
arrangements of their cells according to their necessities. 

Acquired imitation, according to BurTon, does not ex- 
tend to the species, nor can it be communicated to them ; it 
belongs only to the individual who receives and possesses, 
without the power to impart. 

The best instructed parrot could not transmit the talent 
of speech to its young ones. All imitative power com- 
municated to animals by art, or by the care of man, rests 
with the individuals, and although this imitation may be 
entirely dependent on the organisation, it supposes the ex- 
istence of some peculiar intelligence, sensibility, attention, 
and memory. Animals capable of this power of imitation, 
of receiving lasting impressions, and some education on the 
part of man, are distinguished in the orders of organised 
beings. If this education is easily imparted by man to 
every individual of the kind, as the dog for instance, the 
species really becomes superior to that of other animals, so 
long as its relationship with man continues. The dog, left 
to its own nature, falls back to the level of the fox or wolf, 
and cannot of itself rise. 

It is with animals as with man, acquired talent cannot 
be transmitted. It is organisation and mental aptitudes 
which may be inherited. 

A father, naturally clever as a mathematician, teaches his 
son mathematics ; the latter does not transmit the science 
to his son unless the child has a disposition for this study 
and a favourable structure of the organs. We are con- 
vinced that the talent of imitation acquired by animals 
cannot be transmitted, although it may draw out certain 
dispositions. 

The talent for mimicry acquired by some animals 



THE PARROT. 117 

proves them to possess faculties which seem allied to 
intelligence. 

Montbard said that, in the scale of living beings, birds 
should be placed in the first rank after man. Nature has 
collected and concentrated in the small compass of their 
bodies more power than she has imparted to the great mass 
of stronger animals. She has given them more lightness, 
without lessening at all the solidity of their organisation. 
She has ceded to them an empire which extends over the 
earth, the air, and the water. She has endowed them with 
exclusive power over the whole race of insects, which seem 
to exist chiefly to maintain and strengthen their destroyers, 
by serving them for food. They even rule over the reptiles, 
of which they rid the earth, without dreading their venom ; 
over the fishes, which they drag from their element to 
devour ; even over some quadrupeds, which are equally 
their victims. We have seen the buzzard attack the fox; 
the hawk seize the gazelle ; the eagle carry off the sheep, 
attack the dog, as well as the hare, put them to death, and 
carry them off to his eyrie. If we add to this pre-eminence 
of power and quickness in birds other faculties which 
approach to man's nature, such as imitation of speech and 
musical memory, we shall see that they approach nearer to 
us than their exterior form seems to indicate, while the sole 
privilege of the attribute of wings, and the pre-eminence ot 
flight over running, gives them a superiority over all the 
terrestrial animals. 

We will proceed to show this by facts. 



THE COCKATOOS. 

The largest parrots of the Old Continent are cockatoos. 
These parrots learn to speak with difficulty. There are 
some, indeed, which never talk at all, except, perhaps, to 




The Cockatoo. 

f 

cry out "cockatoo," from which sound they are named. 
But do not think that those which chatter most are the 
most intelligent. Cockatoos apply themselves very readily 
to education, and are easily tamed. They have, it appears, 



THE COCKATOOS. Iig 

become domesticated in some parts of India, where they 
make their nests on the roofs of the houses. This facility 
of education, according to Buffon, arises from the superiority 
of their intelligence. They listen, hear, and obey better 
than other parrots, but in vain they attempt to repeat what 
is said to them. They make up for this defect by peculiar 
expressions of sentiment and affectionate caresses, having 
in all their movements a sweetness and grace, which add 
still more to their beauty. Buffon relates that in the month 
of March, 1775, he saw at the fair of St Germain, two cocka- 
toos, male and female, which obeyed with much docility, 
either by displaying their crests, saluting persons by an in- 
clination of the head, touching objects with their beak or 
tongue, or replying to the questions of their master, with a 
sign of assent, which expressed perfectly a mute affirmation. 
They showed, also, by reiterated signs, the number of per- 
sons who were in the room, the hour of the day, and the 
colours of dresses. These parrots are easily distinguished 
from others by their white plumage, by the beak being more 
hooked and rounded, and especially by a crest of long 
feathers with which their heads are adorned, and which 
they raise or lower at pleasure. 



JACKO, 
(THE GREY PARROT.) 

The kind of parrot most frequently brought into Europe is 
the grey or ash-coloured. It is preferred as much for the 
gentleness of its disposition as for its talent and docility. 
It is often called Jacko because it usually pronounces that 
name. The whole of its body is of a beautiful pearly, slate- 
coloured grey, darker on the shoulders and lighter on the 
body, becoming whiter at the belly ; a tail of vermillion 
terminates and relieves this glossy plumage, which has the 
appearance of having been watered and powdered with 
white, rendering it always fresh. The eyes are surrounded 
by a naked, powdery, white skin, which covers the cheek. 
The beak is black, the feet grey, and the iris of a golden 
colour. The length entire of the bird is one foot. 

The greater number of these parrots are brought to us 
from the coast of Guinea, from the interior of that part of 
Africa, and from Congo. They are easily taught to speak, 
and seem to prefer imitating the voices of children, and on 
that account more easily receive their education from them. 
It was remarked by the ancients that all birds capable of 
imitating the human voice, listen more willingly to the 
words of children, and render them more easily because 
they are less strongly articulated, and by their clear sounds 



JACKO (THE GREY PARROT). 121 

are more analogous to the power of the bird's vocal organs. 
Nevertheless, this grey parrot imitates the grave tones of 
an adult voice ; but this imitation seems somewhat difficult, 
and the words which it pronounces in this voice are less 
distinct. One of these parrots from Guinea, instructed on 
the voyage by an old sailor, had caught up his hoarse voice 
and cough most perfectly. Although the bird was after- 
wards given to a young lady, and only heard her voice, he 
did not forget the lessons of his first master ; and it was 
most amusing to hear him pass from a soft, pleasant voice, 
to his hoarse and sailor-like tone. 

Not only has this bird the power of imitating the human 
voice, but he seems to wish to do so. This is shown by his 
attention in listening, and by the efforts he makes to repeat 
every word. He will continue chattering without inter- 
mission a few syllables just heard, and tries to drown all 
voices by raising his own. We are often surprised at hear- 
ing him repeat words or sounds that no one has taken the 
trouble to teach hiifl, and did not even suppose he had- lis- 
tened to. For instance, there is the parrot of Henry VIII., 
of which Aldrovand relates the story that, having fallen into 
the Thamse, he called to his aid the boatmen, as he had 
heard passengers call them from the shore. The Jacko 
appears to set himself a task, and tries to remember his 
lesson each day ; he is occupied with it even during sleep, 
and Margrave says that the bird even chatters in his 
dreams. It is in his earlier years that the parrot shows 
this power, has most memory, and is found most intelligent 
and docile. Sometimes this power of memory, when cul- 
tivated early, becomes extraordinary. The parrot which a 
cardinal bought for a hundred crowns of gold, could, it is 
said, repeat correctly the Apostles' Creed. 



122 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

According to Buffon, Jacko, on awaking, becomes re- 
bellious, and learns with difficulty. Olina advises that the 
hour after the parrots' evening repast should be chosen to 
give them their lesson ; because, being then more satisfied, 
they become more docile and attentive. 

The education of a parrot has been compared to that of 
a child; there would often be more sense, adds Buffon, 
in comparing the education of the child to that of the 
parrot. 

Another very interesting question brought forward on the 
subject of the parrot is, whether he can hear himself speak? 
Buffon's sister, Madame Nadault, in a letter written to her 
brother, affirms her belief that her parrot when he spoke 
did not recognise the voice as his own, but believed that 
it was some one else speaking to him, and acted accord- 
ingly. He had frequently been heard to ask himself for 
his own claw, and never missed answering his question 
by holding it out. Although very fond of the sound of 
children's voices, he showed great hatred to the children 
themselves. He would chase them, and if he caught 
them> pinch them till the blood flowed. As he had objects 
of aversion, he had also others of great attachment ; his 
taste, indeed, was not very fastidious, but it was persistent. 
He loved the kitchen-maid most desperately ; followed 
her everywhere ; sought her in the places where she was 
most likely to be, and seldom in vain. If he had not seen 
her for some time, he would climb on to her shoulder by 
aid of his beak and claws, load her with caresses, and would 
not again leave her, notwithstanding her efforts to get rid of 
him. If at last she succeeded in disengaging herself, he was 
after her again in an instant. His attachment had all the 
marks of a most heartfelt friendship. This girl had a very 



JACKO (THE GREY PARROT). 1 23 

bad finger for some time, which was so painful as to cause 
her to cry out frequently. All the time she was suffering 
the parrot would not leave her room, and showed his sym- 
pathy by groaning himself as piteously as if he also were 
suffering. Every day his first walk was to pay her a visit. 
His tender interest in her continued as long as she remained 
ill. As soon as she was better, he became easy ; but showed 
the same affection, which never changed. However, his 
excessive liking for this girl seemed to be caused by some- 
thing in her work in the kitchen, rather than her person ; 
for, having been replaced by another, the affection of the 
parrot only changed its object, and seemed to be as great 
for this new kitchen-maid, even from the first day ; a proof 
that her care and attention had not procured this attach- 
ment. 

We regret to record this latter trait ; but if it prove a 
want of fealty in Jacko, it does not affect his intelligence. 
He was a clever flatterer, and knew well what could be ob- 
tained from the servants by caresses. Who will dare to say 
that Jacko was an imbecile ? The talent of this species of 
parrot, says Buffon, is not confined to imitation of speech ; 
they learn also to mimic certain gestures and movements. 
Scaliger had seen one which imitated the dance of the 
Savoyards while singing their song. He loved to hear 
singing, and when he saw dancing, jumped about also but 
with the worst grace in the world, holding his claws inwards, 
and falling back heavily. This was his greatest delight 
Jacko has also been seen exhibiting foolish mirth ; chat- 
tering incessantly when tipsy, for all parrots love wine, 
particularly sherry and muscadel. 

Buffon, after having acknowledged the intelligence of 
the parrot, says, " This burlesque of a language, without 



124 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

ideas, is certainly very odd and grotesque ; and, without 
being more empty than many other discourses, is always 
more amusing." He relates the anecdote borrowed from 
Clusius by Willoughby. It appears that a parrot, when 
they said to it, " Laugh, Polly, laugh," laughed immediately 
in good earnest, and the next moment called out, " Oh ! 
the great fool, to make me laugh." Another, which had 
grown old. with his master, and shared with him the infirmi- 
ties of age, being accustomed to hear but little more than 
the words, " I am very ill," when asked, " What is the 
matter, Polly — what is the matter ? " answered, in a 
dismal tone, stretching himself on the hearth, "I am 
very ill." 

We find also in the annals of Constantine Manasses, a 
Byzantine writer of the twelfth century, the story of the 
young Prince Leon, son of the Emperor Basil, who was con- 
demned to death by his cruel father, and though the latter 
could not be moved to pity by the entreaties of those around 
him, the accents of a bird which had been taught to lament 
the death of the young prince, at last softened the barbarian's 
heart. 

The language of the parrot is not destitute of ideas. 
That this bird, cannot form, like us, a chain of reasoning is 
true ; but to say that his language is without an idea is 
impossible. When you ask a parrot if he has breakfasted, 
he knows perfectly well how to answer you, if he has 
satisfied his hunger. He will never tell you that he has 
breakfasted when it is not the case; at least, you cannot 
force him to say " no" when he ought to say " yes." 

Some young girls, in going to school, passed a house 
where was a parrot; one of them had beautiful plaits of 
hair falling over her shoulders. No doubt the parrot had 



JACKO (THE GREY PARROT). 12$ 

heard them call this young girl " the belle with the plaited 
hair." From that day, every time the child passed before 
the parrot, without any one saying a word, he recognised 
her and called her by that title. Evidently the sight of 
the young girl and her hair recalled to the bird the idea 
of "the belle with the plaits." He never addressed this 
compliment to any other person who passed. 

One of the most celebrated talkers was a grey parrot 
belonging to a Dennis O'Kelly, often called Colonel O'Kelly. 
Not only could this extraordinary bird repeat a great number 
of phrases, but he could reply to many questions. He also 
whistled several airs, and marked the time most correctly. 
His ear was so perfect, that if by chance he uttered a wrong 
note he corrected himself and took up the measure at the 
place where he had been interrupted. Was this simply from 
memory ? Was it not rather intelligence and the association 
of ideas ? This same parrot made known its wants by 
words, and gave its orders in a tone which showed it was 
endowed with judgment. The bird is also said to have 
sung the 104th Psalm, "The Banks of the Dee," and "God 
save the King." This parrot had been bought for fifty 
guineas ; it died in 1802. 

Herbert has rendered justice to the wonderful faculty of 
memory in this bird. " I have heard one," he says, " sing 
about fifty airs of different kinds, sacred psalms, comic and 
vulgar songs, of which he articulated each word as distinctly 
as any well-exercised human voice could have done. When 
he was moulting, and not in the humour to sing, he replied 
to all solicitations by turning his back and repeating several 
times, " Polly is ill." Mr. Jesse mentions a parrot which, 
when pleased, would laugh most heartily, and then cry out, 
" Don't make me laugh so ; I shall die, I shall die." The 



126 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

bird would also mimic sobbing, and exclaim, " So bad, so 
bad ; got such a cold." If any one happened to cough, the 
pairot would remark, " What a bad cold." 

When we understand animals better, we shall not mix 
up any merely speculative questions with actual facts, but 
be more ready to admit in these beings an intelligence 
in harmony with their organisation, their wants, and their 
feelings. 

Where can one find amongst human beings an attach- 
ment greater than that of the two parrots belonging to Dr. 
Franklin ? "I have known two parrots," said he, " which 
had lived together four years, when the female became weak, 
and her legs swelled. These were symptoms of gout, a 
disease to which all birds of this family are very subject in 
England* It became impossible for her to descend from the 
perch or to take her food as formerly, but the male was 
most assiduous in carrying it to her in his beak. He con- 
tinued feeding her in this manner during four months, but 
the infirmities of his companion increased from day to day, 
so that, at last, she was unable to support herself on the 
perch. She remained cowering down in the bottom of the 
cage, making, from time to time, ineffectual efforts to regain 
the perch. The male was always near her, and with all his 
strength, aided the feeble attempts of his dear better half. 
Seizing the poor invalid by the beak, or the upper part of 
the wing, he tried to raise her and renewed his efforts several 
times. 

11 His constancy, his gestures, and his continued solici- 
tude, all showed in this affectionate bird the most ardent 
desire to relieve the sufferings and assist the weakness of his 
companion. 

" But the scene became still more interesting when the 



JACKO (THE GREY PARROT). 1 27 

female was dying. Her unhappy spouse moved around 
her incessantly, his attention and tender cares redoubled. 
He even tried to open her beak to give some nourishment. 
He ran to her, then returned with a troubled and agitated 
look. At intervals he uttered the most plaintive cries, then 
with his eyes fixed on her, kept a mournful silence. At 
length his companion breathed her last ; from that moment 
he pined away, and died in the course of a few weeks. 



THE EAGLE. 

If the names of certain animals are employed as terms of 
con.cuipt, that of the eagle, on the contrary, is a synonym 
iur intelligence, representing to everybody the greatest 
intellectual powers. And yet few naturalists have observed 
the intelligence of this king of birds. We must penetrate 
with Audubon into the primitive forests of America to 
make observations on this point. " In autumn," says he, 
" at a time when thousands of birds fly from the north, and 
draw near to the tropic, let your boat skim over the waters 
of the Mississippi. When you see two trees towering above 
all others, side by side on the banks of the river, raise 
your eyes — the eagle is there.- Perched on the summit 
of one of the trees, his flashing eye seems to burn like 
a flame of fire. He contemplates attentively the whole 
extent of waters, and his look is often directed towards the 
sun. He observes, waits, listens to every sound, recollects 
and distinguishes them, and even the step of the fawn, gently 
moving the leaves, does not escape him. On the opposite 
tree the female remains as sentinel ; every now and then 
she seems by her cry to exhort the male to be patient. He 
replies by clapping his wings, inclining his whole body, and 
by a shrill cry resembling in sound the laugh of a maniac ; 
then he stands erect, so silent and immovable, one would 
think he was marble. Ducks of all kinds, water-fowl, and 
bustards, brought thither by the course of the river, fly past 
in close battalions, but the eagle disdains such prey, and 




THE EAGLE SEEKING HIS PREY. 



THE EAGLE. 131 

his contempt saves their lives. A sound, which the wind 
wafts over the current, reaches the ears of the two brigands. 
This sound has the harshness and reverberation of an 
instrument of copper. The female warns the male by a 
call made up of two notes. The whole body of the eagle 
trembles. Two or three sharp strokes of his beak against 
his plumage prepare him for the expedition. He is ready 
to take flight. 

" The swan approaches, like a vessel floating in the air, 
his neck, white as snow, extended before him, and his eye 
flashing with uneasiness. The precipitate motion of his 
wings scarcely serves to sustain the weight of the body, and 
the feet, folded back under his tail, are invisible. He 
approaches slowly — a devoted victim. A war-cry is heard ; 
the eagle darts off with the rapidity of a falling star or 
the lightning flash. The swan recognises his executioner, 
lowers his neck, describes a semicircle, and in an agony of 
fear, manoeuvres to escape death. He has but one chance, 
that of plunging into the current ; but the eagle foresees 
his intention, and forces his prey to remain in the air by 
keeping himself underneath, threatening to strike the belly 
and under the wings. This deep scheming never fails to 
attain its end. The swan becomes tired and exhausted, 
losing all hope of safety. The enemy still fears that the 
prey may fall into the water ; a blow from the talons of the 
eagle strikes the victim under the wing and precipitates 
him obliquely on to the shore. So much power, activity, 
prudence, and skill have completed the conquest. You 
could not witness the triumph of the eagle without fear. 
He strikes his strong claws into the heart of the dying 
swan, beats his wings, and shrieks for joy. The last con- 
vulsions of the dying swan intoxicate him. He raises his 

J 2 



132 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

bald head towards heaven; his eyes inflamed with pride, 
are red as blood. His mate joins him: both return to the 
swan, pierce his breast with their beaks, and gorge them- 
selves with the warm blood which flows from it." 

" In this terrible drama," says Adrian Leonard, " intel- 
ligence is in union with instinct, for it is impossible not to 
recognise attention, observation, reflection, and forethought 
which is the result of experience." 

The following account of the patience with- which a 
golden eagle submitted to surgical treatment, and the care 
which it showed in the gradual use of the healing limb, must 
suggest the idea that something very near to prudence and 
reason existed in the bird. This eagle was caught in a fox- 
trap set in the forest of Fontainebleau, and its claw had been 
terribly torn. An operation was performed on the limb by 
the conservators of the zoological gardens at Paris, which 
the noble bird bore with a rational patience. Though his 
head was left loose, he made no attempts to interfere with 
the agonising extraction of the splinters, or to disturb the 
arrangements of the annoying bandages. He seemed really 
to understand the nature of the services rendered, and that 
they were for his good. Either from pain or from anger, the 
eagle refused to touch any of the offered food for thirteen 
days. A rabbit being then presented, he killed it, taking 
care not to use his injured claw. On the twenty-first day 
after the capture he began to experiment on the soundness 
of the injured limb ; trying it first a little, now resting gently 
upon it, and then throwing more weight upon the foot. The 
limb at length recovered from the injury, but this result was 
chiefly owing to the wonderful patience and intelligence of 
the wounded bird. He seemed also to feel grateful to the 
man who had tended him during the progress of the cure ; 



THE EAGLE. 1 33 

and such was the perfect confidence established between 
the two, that the eagle slept on a perch close to the bed of 
the attendant. 

Another fact may be mentioned illustrative of the eagle's 
ability to select, on the spur of the moment, the best means 
for accomplishing a result. 

Two boys had robbed an eagle's nest, and were going 
off with the young, when the mother suddenly returned, 
and made a desperate attack upon the spoilers. The boys 
defended themselves with sticks, but had the narrowest 
possible escape from the fury of the exasperated bird. A 
small stream ran near, and, in order to give greater power 
to her wing, the eagle, at each swoop, dipped the feathers 
in the water, and then trailed the wet wing against the sand. 
Thus prepared, the stroke of the wing told upon the boys 
with double force. Here we have a bird availing herself 
of perfectly novel means to meet an unexpected emergency. 
Mere instinct would not have taught the eagle thus to use 
the water and sand, 



VARIETY OF BIRD INTELLIGENCE. 

SKILL OF THE TAILOR-BIRD — DEVICES OF THE TOM-TITS 

AND THRUSHES THE ROBIN APPEALS TO MAN JEALOUS 

PRUDENCE OF THE WREN — DEEP TRICK OF A CORN- 
CRAKE MATERNAL CARE IN A LARK COMBINATION 

AMONG STORKS LOGIC OF A MOOR-HEN. 

That a bird should turn its beak into a sewing-needle 
might seem a feat above all feathered genius ; but the 
tailor-bird of India has actually done so. The following is 
the mode in which this winged mechanic constructs its 
nest : — The bird having selected two leaves of a size suited 
to its wants, and picked up a bit of cotton-thread, drills a 
hole in the leaves with the beak, and then, with the same 
tool, passes a bit of the thread through ; a knot being then 
formed so as to prevent the thread from coming out, one 
pair of holes is thus secured. The same operation is re- 
peated with each set of holes, until a sufficient number of 
the leaves is joined to form a nest. This fastening a knot 
at each pair of holes, instead of uniting all by one thread, 
as a human sempstress would do with her needle, is a 
tedious task ; but the bird has not got a needle, and there- 
fore has to work with its natural tools. Surely this operation 
is evidence of the existence of some power of reasoning. 

The stratagem by which a hungry tom-tit will sometimes 
procure a dinner seems to indicate a power of drawing con- 
clusions from facts. The bird alights in front of a bee-hive 



VARIETY OF BIRD INTELLIGENCE. 1 35 

on a winter's day, and then gives a vigorous tap with its 
beak on the board at the entrance. It waits a while ; a 
bee — a curious and watchful bee — then probably comes out, 
in spite of the cold, to see what can be the matter. It is 
the insect's last journey in pursuit of knowledge ; the tom- 
tit picks him up, in defiance of the sting. Proceeding in 
this manner, the cunning bird manages to get something 
like a dinner. The tom-tit seems to reason thus : " If I 
tap, the bees will be alarmed ; some are almost sure to 
come out, and then they are mine." 

The lapwings and thrushes obtain breakfasts of worms 
by a very similar process. Advancing until a worm cast is 
visible, the bird jumps violently on the ground ; in a short 
time the worm generally comes out, whether from fright 
at the singular shaking of the soil over his head, or from 
curiosity, we cannot say. No sooner, however, does he 
wriggle out, than he is captured, without possibility of rescue. 

The robin is well known to be a bold bird, fighting all 
small birds, and showing in the winter little fear even of 
man himself. But a fact is recorded which suggests that 
the redbreast can reason upon the ability of man to help the 
weak. 

Mrs. Lee, in her "Anecdotes," says that one day her 
gardener •* was struck by the strange conduct of a robin, 
which the man had often fed. The bird fluttered about him 
in so strange a manner — now coming close, then hurrying 
away, always in the same direction, that the gardener fol- 
lowed its retreating movements. The robin stopped near a 
flower-pot, and fluttered over it in great agitation. It was 
soon found that a nest had been formed in the pot, and 
contained several young. Close by was a snake, intent, 
doubtless, upon making a meal of the brood. The man 



136 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

saw the reason of the bird's conduct, and carried off the 
snake, upon which the redbreast expressed its joy by a 
burst of song and triumphant flutterings. Here was a direct 
appeal made by the robin to the man for aid against a foe. 

Sometimes, however, birds will not confide in man, but 
prefer to rely on their own resources. 

Mr. Jesse gives an account of a wren which had been 
annoyed by some children peeping into her nest. No harm 
was intended ; the children would not, on any account, have 
hurt the wren. But the bird suspected danger, or, at least, 
objected to be overlooked. One day the opening into the 
nest was found to be closed up. Had the cruel mother 
actually buried her young alive, and turned their cradle into 
a tomb ? On closely examining the nest, it was discovered 
that a new entrance had been made at the back, into which 
the wren clearly thought no eye would pry. What could a 
human householder have done more to secure himself from 
impertinent curiosity? If overlooked through the front 
windows, his reason would lead him to close them and 
open others at the back. Thus the wren acted. 

When an unarmed man is suddenly attacked by a bear, 
and falling on the ground pretends to be dead, he is thought 
to have displayed great, presence of mind. This can be 
matched by an incident in the life of a corncrake. 

One of these birds had been brought to a gentleman by 
his dog. The corncrake was to all appearance quite dead 
when laid on the ground, not a feather moved ; when turned 
over, the whole body seemed lifeless, and the sportsman left 
it on the ground awhile. He took it up hastily, for he had 
seen one eye slowly open ; perhaps the poor bird was not 
dead. But there it hung in his hand, in all the drooping 
lassitude of death. The bird was then placed in his pocket 



VARIETY OF BIRD INTELLIGENCE. I37 

but in a short time it was certainly moving ; and yet, upon 
again looking at it, there was no stir. The gentleman then, 
somewhat perplexed, laid the corncrake on the ground, and 
withdrew to a little distance. In a few minutes an eye was 
slyly opened ; then the head was slowly raised ; and, lastly, 
the artful bird got upon its legs, and darted off in thorough 
corncrake style. Are we wrong in calling this " presence of 
mind." The case seems to be well attested, both Mr. Jesse 
and Mrs. Lee admitting it into their works. 

Birds which build their nests on the ground are exposed 
to special perils, and therefore adopt every precaution to 
screen the nest from observation. How often does the 
mower's scythe bring instant death to the lark while sitting 
on her nest? It happened that on one occasion the scythe 
passed clean over a lark's nest, neither injuring the mother 
nor disturbing the young. The cutting away of the grass 
had, however, laid the home open to every passer-by. The 
mowers went on with their work, and the courageous bird 
remained at her post of danger. After a short time the 
farmer passed, but could see nothing of the nest. After 
some close searching, the concealment was explained. The 
lark had actually placed over the nest a quantity of grass, so 
arranged as to hide the whole completely from view, but 
leaving a passage wide enough for her to go out and 
return. This case shows an intelligence adapting itself to 
the- sudden emergencies of an unexpected crisis, which 
must be something more than instinct. 

Storks seem to have some means of so communicating 
their wishes to each other as to be able to organise plans 
and combine to carry them out. 

One day a wild stork attacked with great fury a tame 
member of his race, kept, with clipped wings, in a yard at 



138 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

Tubingen, but was driven off by some men. The next year 
four storks attacked the tame bird, but were driven off by 
the people, who were irritated at these assaults on their 
favourite. For some time the precautions taken kept the 
wild storks at a distance ; but, in the spring of the third year, 
an organised band of near thirty storks dashed into the yard 
where their tamed brother was kept, and murdered him 
before aid arrived. The original ground of quarrel is un- 
known ; but it seems clear that these repeated attacks, with 
constantly increasing numbers, were the result of concerted 
action among the conspirators. 

The same power of combination was shown by two moor- 
hens. One of these birds saw a pheasant feeding from a 
box which opens by a spring set in action by the weight of 
the pheasant on a perch. No sooner had this bird left the 
perch one day, than the moor-hen occupied the place, wait- 
ing till the food-box opened. But this result did not follow, 
because the moor-hen's weight was not sufficient to act on 
the spring. For a time the mortified bird tried to get the 
door open by jumping on the perch ; but this being of no 
use, it flew off, and soon returned with another moor-fowl. 
The weight of the two birds brought the spring down, and 
the ingenious thieves were rewarded by feasting on the 
pheasant's food. Bishop Stanley, who recorded the case, 
has no doubt of its truth ; and the proceeding of the two 
birds certainly looks like rational combination. 



THE SWALLOWS. 

GENTLENESS. FIDELITY AND BROTHERHOOD. 

Francis of Assisi being occupied one day in preaching to 
an idolatrous population, the chattering of some swallows 
prevented his words from reaching the ears of his audience ; 
he addressed himself immediately to his interrupters in these 
terms : " How many hours you chatter, my sisters ; pray 
keep silence a little while, so that I may also speak in my 
turn, and explain to these good people the word of God." 
"These swallows," says the story (for the accuracy of which 
we do not vouch), " became silent immediately, and listened 
with profound attention to the words of the preacher !" 

St. Francis, who certainly was not a simpleton, had pro- 
bably remarked the intelligence of these charming little 
birds. He knew without doubt, also, that the Psalmist 
compares a pious man to the swallow, which loved to 
suspend her nest in the arches of the Temple. The con- 
fidence with which swallows build their nests in churches 
and under our roofs may be deemed proof of their intelli- 
gence. It has been remarked that the nearer animals live 
to man the more their intellectual aptitude is developed. 
Toussenel is, without contradiction, the author who has. 
spoken best of the swallows. "People have reason," said 
he, " to call swallows the birds of God, because there is no 
species of animal on which the Almighty has, with more 
partiality, shed his gifts. It surpasses the turtle-dove and 



I40 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

common sparrow in tenderness, Philemon and Baucis in 
fidelity, the partridge in maternal devotion, the wagtail in 
social love, and the falcon in power of flight and keenness 
of vision. The swallow is essentially the friend of man ; in 
countries where the children have no pity for other birds, 
the swallows are respected. It is no uncommon thing to 
see ten, fifteen, and even twenty swallow-nests under the 
roof of a farm-house. The worst man dare not touch them 
there ; this is not only from a sense of pity for these inno- 
cent creatures, which rid us of numbers of destructive insects, 
but because men think that to destroy the. nest of a swallow 
brings ill-luck. If there were no worse superstitions we 
could well leave the people in their belief, while, the swallow 
herself can afford them lessons of conjugal fidelity and 
maternal affection. The union of swJiows lasts as long as 
their affection for the places of their birth, or the scenes of 
their first love." 

Science has not sufficiently analysed all the circum- 
stances which accompany the death of so many swallows by 
drowning. In these cases of violent or premature death, we 
see charitable neighbour birds take charge of the offspring 
of the defunct pair, and generously provide for the support 
and education of the poor orphans. What a lesson for bad 
mothers, who have not the same care for their own children, 
but sometimes leave them like a bundle of soiled linen in 
the public ^tr^ets when they cannot dispose of them other- 
wise ! How can any one say that a creature with so many 
good instincts is not intelligent ? 

The house-swallow, says Dupont, is distinguished among 
birds by its intelligence. Its tenderness for its little ones, 
the gratitude of the latter, conjugal, filial, and paternal 
love are constantly displayed in the nest, mingled with a 



THE SWALLOWS. 



141 



variety of affectionate and tender expressions. All the 
members of the family feel an affection which they cannot 
contain, and which they manifest by a delicious warbling ; 
all seem to be desirous of say- 
ing, "I love thee, thou art 
beautiful and good ! " 

However, when about to 
render service to a neighbour, 
the voice which demands help, 
and that which grants it, may 
be distinctly heard. Many per- 
sons know the story of the 
swallow which had entangled 
its claw, by some means, in a 
piece of thread fastened to a 
spout on the wall of the College 
des Quatre Nations, at Paris. 
Its strength being exhausted, 
the bird hung at the end of the 
thread, which it kept raising in 
the endeavours to fly, uttering 
plaintive cries. All the swal- 
lows from between the Pont des 
Tuileries and Pont Neuf, and 
perhaps still further, gathered 
together, to the number of some 

hundreds, all uttering cries of pity and alarm. After some 
hesitation and a tumultuous conference, one of them seemed 
to have found a means of delivering their unfortunate com- 
panion, and no doubt communicated it to the others. They 
placed themselves in order, and each coming in turn, struck 
the thread with the beak, somewhat after the fashion of 




A Lesson for Bad Mothers. 



142 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



"tilting at the ring." These thrusts, aimed at the same 
point, succeeded each other every moment, and greatly 
incommoded the poor captive ; but in a short time the 




Combination among the Swallows. 



thread was severed, and the poor bird set at liberty ! The 
flock remained till night, chattering all the time ; but in a 
tone which had nothing of inquietude, and was expressive 
only of mutual congratulation. 



THE SWALLOWS. 1 43 

A sparrow having taken possession of the nest of a 
swallow, defended it most vigorously. The former pos- 
sessors not being able to recover their heritage, invoked the 
aid of their confederates, who, notwithstanding their numbers 
and menaces, were not able to dislodge the usurper. All 
their attempts were in vain. Suddenly their manoeuvres 
changed ; the assault was suspended, and the siege turned 
into a blockade. Some brave swallows stood sentry over 
the opening, and the others bringing their beaks full of 
mortar, in a short time the nest was walled up like the fatal 
prison of Ugolino. The cries of the vanquishers intimidated 
the sparrow from attempting to make its escape. The con- 
solidation of the wall was soon complete, and the usurper 
perished. 

The following case also shows the readiness and ability 
of these little birds to combine against their foes. In the 
year 1832 a pair of swallows built their nest under the eaves 
of a house at Hampton Court. A pair of sparrows got 
possession of the home, and the swallows were unable to 
expel the impudent intruders. But when the usurpers had 
to leave the nest in search of food for their young, then 
came the time for revenge. During the short absence of 
the sparrows a number of swallows tore down the nest from 
the wall, and left the unfortunate young ones to perish, thus 
proving that even birds may sometimes suffer through the 
faults of their parents. 

Numerous, indeed, are the cases in which swallows show 
a sympathy for the welfare of their race. A nest, containing 
young, had been beaten down by long continued rains, and 
the brood was thus exposed to the pelting storm. Some 
members of the family inhabiting the house threw a cloth 
covering over the ruined nest, and thus saved the newly 



144 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

fledged birds from perishing. But now loud outcries arose 
from the parents, and from other swallows which instantly 
flocked to the place. When the storm had passed the covering 
was removed, and then an extraordinary scene was witnessed. 
The old birds fed the young, and immediately all the 
assembled swallows set to work in raising an arched earth- 
work over the nestlings, and thus effectually protected the 
young family. What could a colony of human settlers have 
done more for a neighbour whose house had been destroyed? 
No theory of mere instinct will explain such a proceeding. 
The emergency was sudden, the remedy novel, and the 
means effectual. 

Something like reason is seen in the following case : — 
An American wren took possession of a martin's nest, from 
which the invader could not be expelled. The martins, 
however, kept watch over the intruder, and no sooner did 
the wren leave the nest to search for food than the martins 
re-entered, and immediately planned a scheme for keeping 
out the foe. They made the entrance so much narrower, 
and so blocked up the passage that it would be impossible 
for the wren to get in, while the owners kept at home. The 
enemy soon returned, and at first tried force, but the strength 
and arrangement of the defences baffled her. The foe now 
established a siege, watching near the entrance for two days. 
But the martins bravely held out in spite of hunger, and at 
last, the patience of the wren giving way, she left the skilful 
defenders of the fortress in peace. Here, again, we find 
birds adopting special means to accomplish a particular end. 

Mr. Jesse mentions the following as illustrating the in- 
telligence of the swallows in adapting even the materials of 
their nests to special situations. A pair of these birds 
built against the wall of a lime-kiln chimney. The heat was 



THE SWALLOWS. 1 45 

so great as to make the nest crumble to pieces ; a second 
and even a third sharing the same fate. Some scheme for 
making or collecting a new kind of material, capable of 
bearing the heat, must then have been devised, for the 
fourth nest stood. For two succeeding years the nests were 
built in the same place and always endured the heat. 
Between the first unsuccessful and the last improved works 
of the little architects, some progress must have been made 
in the composition or working up of the material for the 
nest. These swallows were inventors in some way, as clearly 
as Wedgwood was in his pottery improvements. 

Another incident, mentioned by the same gentleman, 
supports a similar conclusion. A swallow had selected a 
place for her nest in a corner formed by two walls, but the 
surface of these being smooth, the bird could not easily find 
any projection on which the foundation of the nest might 
rest. She, however, managed to fix a bit of clay on each 
wall, and then laid a piece of light wood on the two clay 
supports. This gave her a good foundation, and the work 
was securely finished. Is a builder who overcomes a struc- 
tural difficulty to be counted a clever workman, while similar 
triumphs over obstacles by a bird are all explained by the 
vague word "instinct?" 

One can well understand, from these facts, the energy, 
union, subordination, and social spirit employed in common 
defence and the general interest. 

When about to migrate, the swallows assemble at some 
place apparently agreed upon beforehand ; and, after a long 
discussion, which occupies whole days, they set out in flocks. 
It is said that the principal sign which warns them of the 
necessity of leaving a country, is the slight elevation of the 
sun in autumn. Birds are, in fact, very sensitive to light. 

K 



THE RAVEN, ROOK, AND MAGPIE. 

The raven does not inspire us with much interest. His 
black coat, lugubrious air, his destructive instincts, and his 
inclination for theft, have procured him much abuse % On 
the other hand, his hypocrisy has not procured him many 
friends. Sometimes he crows like a cock, mews like a cat, 
barks like a dog, or imitates the sound of the rattle, with 
which they frighten the birds from pillaging the fields of 
corn. 

He is capable of learning a little Latin. Dr. J. Franklin's 
raven, which was named Jacko, pronounced the word aqua 
distinctly, but he preferred wine to water. " One day," said 
the Doctor, " my housekeeper placed a glass of red wine 
upon the table ; in an instant the bird poured it quickly 
down his throat, I mean that he plunged his beak into the 
precious liquor, and sucked it up, drop by drop. When the 
housekeeper, fearing he would break the glass, took it away, 
the bird flew into her face in a fury. If three glasses are 
placed upon the table, one of water, another of beer, and 
the third of wine, he will leave the first two, and will only 
pay his respects to the glass of wine. We may conclude, 
then," said the Doctor, " that these birds are not so limited 
to the dietetic regimen prescribed by nature as to show 
themselves insensible to the good things of the kitchen or 
the treasures of the cellar." 

Many writers have remarked the intelligence and saga- 
city of ravens in judging of the dangers to which they are 



THE RAVEN, ROOK, AND MAGPIE. 



147 



exposed by our weapons. A very lofty and bushy oak, far 
from any habitation, served as a shelter during the night for 
a number of ravens. Thither they were seen to retire every 
evening. One very clear night, about two hours after sun- 
set, a gun loaded with ball was fired into the tree. The 
ravens took to flight, but not one of them flew horizontally ; 
on the contrary, all rose perpendicularly like a burst of fire- 




works. Their unanimous calculation seems to have been, 
that the shot which had been fired from the foot of the 
tree might be followed by another, therefore it was best to 
rise out of reach in a direction where the branches could 
protect and hide them. It was not until they were at a 
great elevation that they began to disperse in order to 
choose another resting-place. 

During the day, when the flock strayed through the 
fields in search of food, five or six sentinels remained 
in the air, flying slowly from side to side, observing all 
that passed, and giving the others due warning. These 
watchers were relieved at certain intervals. 

The habits of ravens can rarely be watched in England 

K 2 



148 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

now, few indeed of these birds being found in the more 
cultivated districts, especially in the south. If the following 
statement, published about a hundred years ago, is to be 
relied on, the ravens must sometimes have shown a capacity 
for combined action against foes. A blacksmith, of Bridge- 
water, went out about Christmas to enjoy a little shooting ; 
a number of ravens flew by, the man fired, and two birds 
dropped. The rest instantly attacked the sportsman, dash- 
ing their powerful beaks into his head and face ; nor were 
they driven off before the shooter had received many severe 
wounds. Indeed, the man is said to have died a few days 
after. 

If the old and widely-believed story could be accepted, 
which describes the raven as throwing pebbles into hollows 
containing water, in order to raise the fluid to a point within 
the reach of his beak, we must then class this bird among 
the sagacious animals. Such an act would imply the pos- 
session of some reasoning power. Great men, such as 
Lord Bacon, have declared their belief in the statement, 
but it is not sufficiently supported by any well-attested 
observation. 

There can be no doubt, however, that ravens show great 
skill in obtaining food. The two, mentioned by Captain 
McClure as watching every movement on board his ship in 
the polar regions, were constantly outwitting a watchful dog 
by stealing his food. They would entice the angry quad- 
ruped to follow them for a distance, and then, suddenly 
flying back, would arrive at' the mess-tins of the crew, and 
snatch off the best bone before the dog could return. 

It is much easier to note the customs of crows and rooks, 
as these active and clever birds abound in every county. 
The cleverness of the rook is well known, and no one who 



THE RAVEN, ROOK, AND MAGPIE. 

has observed them can hesitate to believe that these birds 
possess a strong memory, great prudence, and some capacity 
for reasoning. The keen watchfulness with which they 
regard a man armed with a gun must have been noted by 
every one. The common notion that rooks can " smell 
gunpowder" may be wrong, but the old birds can certainly 
draw a very fair conclusion respecting the power of a gun to 
do them mischief. One warning note from the sentinel 
rook is enough to send off a whole colony from its feeding 
ground. The people in some parts believe that the rooks 
distinguish Sunday from other days, and will then approach 
places from which they generally keep at a safe distance. 
The notion is by no means unreasonable. So watchful a 
bird must notice many things which distinguish Sundays. 
The absence of work in the fields, the general quietude of 
the country, and the sounds of church bells coming from all 
parts, are quite sufficient to impress upon the memory of a 
rook the most evident marks of such a day. The strength 
of memory in these birds cannot often be tested, as they 
are seldom domesticated ; but there are instances which 
show that the rook can long remember persons with whom 
it has associated. An American gentleman had brought up 
one from the nest, which became the pet of the whole 
family ; but the love of liberty could not be destroyed. One 
day the bird disappeared, nor could any news be obtained 
of the wanderer. Eleven months had caused the rook to 
be forgotten, when one day a number of the birds flew by, 
and one, coming boldly down, perched on the gentleman's 
shoulder, uttering the most joyful cries. There was no 
doubt about the old friend ; certain marks enabled the 
former owner to identify the fugitive, and he tried to lay 
hold of the confiding bird. Then it flew back; it would 



itjO THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

recognise and salute him, but it must remain free ; therefore, 
after much fluttering to and fro, the exile flew off to its 
companions. The memory of this bird had enabled it, 
after so long a time, to recognise not only the appearance 
of the former owner, but there must have also been the 
recollection of kindness received long ago, otherwise such 
perfect confidence in man would hardly have been shown. 
Thousands of such instances might be obtained if our 
opportunities for observation were more extensive. 

Rooks are said to possess, in a large degree, the faculty 
of sympathising with the wounded of their own race. They 
do, undoubtedly, flutter in the greatest agitation over and 
around those which have been disabled by. shots. ]f the 
injured rook is able to move, the others call him forward 
with incessant outcries, and show their anxiety to remove 
him out of danger. 

Some persons look upon magpies as mischievous chat- 
terers rather than as clever birds. Some of their nests, 
however, show no small degree of defensive skill, especially 
in places where enemies abound. Mrs. Lee describes the 
proceedings of a pair of these birds, which, having built 
their nest in the low part of a gooseberry bush, where it 
was exposed to the attacks of cats, found themselves com- 
pelled to fortify their home. Well was the work accomplished. 
A complete barricade of thorns was firmly fixed round the nest, 
and even round the bush itself. This bird fortification was 
nearly a foot thick, bidding defiance to every assailant except 
man himself. The magpie does, no doubt, often employ 
its ingenuity for very improper objects. One is mentioned 
who used his power of uttering words to impose upon man- 
kind. He belonged to a family which lived near a toll-gate, 
and from often hearing travellers utter the cry, had learned 



THE RAVEN, ROOK,. AND MAGPIE. 151 

to pronounce the words " gate ahoy." The bird had also 
observed that the utterance of these words invariably brought 
out the keeper's wife to open the gate. Combining these 
various points in his clever little head, the bird contrived a 
scheme for plundering the good woman. On certain days 
she prepared the dinner in a kitchen from which the toll-gate 
was not visible, but the traveller's call compelled her to 
leave all her delicate little bits on the table for a few minutes 
while the gate was being opened. Now the magpie coveted 
some of these morsels, and one day, when the woman was pre- 
paring the dinner, the well-known cry, uttered in a peculiar 
voice, " gate ahoy," compelled her to leave the kitchen. 
To the amazement of the woman, she saw no traveller, nor 
was there any malicious boy in sight who might have played 
the trick. On returning to the kitchen she beheld the 
magpie pecking with might and main at her eatables. The 
thief soon made his escape from the angry woman, who 
did not at first suspect the bird as the culprit; but when the 
trick had been played two or three times, the whole scheme- 
was clear. The magpie's cheating then came to an end, but 
his fame spread far and wide. In truth, we are sorry to 
admit that the cleverness was so applauded that the crime 
was overlooked. In this trick we can all see that the bird 
must have combined in one view a number of facts, and 
have reasoned correctly from them. 



THE PARTRIDGE. 

The partridge has not a strong head, it is true ; but ma- 
ternal devotion is so manifested in this poor little creature 
that her heart must be the great source of intelligence. We 
do not know a better assorted union than that of the par- 
tridge. The male, once mated, is as tender and faithful as 
his companion. Both love with all their heart, without fear 
or hesitation. The female deposits about twenty eggs, on 
which she sits with unequalled ardour during twenty-four 
days, and takes care to place them in such order that every 
one shall receive an equal amount of heat from her body. 
During the whole time of incubation, the male, a model 
husband, is ever by the side of his companion, with a 
solicitude, a happiness, and a kind of rapturous admiration, 
being ever ready to accompany her when she leaves the 
nest in search of food. As soon as the little ones are 
hatched, he shares with the mother the cares of their edu- 
cation ; they lead them in common, call them incessantly, 
show them the food suitable for them, and teach how to 
procure it by scratching the earth with their claws. It is 
not an uncommon thing to see the old birds sitting down 
side by side, their wings covering the little ones, whose 
heads are peeping out on all sides. And then, if the sports- 
man's dog, having scented the nest, approach too near, it is 
always the male who takes flight first, uttering cries of dis- 
tress, which betray his agony. He does not go away far ; 
but stops at the distance of thirty or forty paces, hoping 



THE PARTRIDGE. 



153 



that all is not lost, and that the dog will have pity on 
his beloved family. But, no ; the dog knows no pity for 
them. Then paternal love can no longer be restrained; 
the poor bird, not regarding his own weakness, sometimes 










even beats the dog with his wings. In a little time he again 
takes flight; but flies heavily, dragging his wings, as if to 
attract the enemy by the hope of an easy prey, always flying 
far enough, so as to escape being taken, but not far enough 



154 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

to discourage the sportsman. Thus he contrives to draw 
him further and further from the brood. La Fontaine attri- 
butes this sagacious manoeuvre also to the mother-bird. 

Buffon says that the female takes flight the instant after 
the male; always goes further, and in another direction. 
She does not despair; but returns immediately, running 
along the furrows, and approaching her little ones, all 
hidden in the grass, gathers them together quickly, and 
before the dog returns from pursuing the male, she has 
conveyed them far away, without the sportsman hearing 
the least sound. 

A nest was so placed on some land which was being 
ploughed that the next turn of the share must destroy it. 
When the ploughmen came to the spot, the nest was there 
in the very line of the plough, but the birds had gone, and 
all the eggs, in number about twenty, had disappeared. 
The men searched, and found the hen about forty yards 
off, sitting on the eggs, which were on the point of being 
hatched. In about a quarter of an hour the birds had 
managed to remove all the eggs. Here was a clear esti- 
mate of the danger, and the adoption of the best means 
of escape. 



THE GOLDFINCH. 

Everybody knows how skilfully goldfinches build their 
nests; but here is a proof of their intelligence. A pair of 
goldfinches had built on a branch which was not strong 
enough. When the brood was hatched, the parents per- 
ceived that the weight of their growing family was too 
heavy for the branch, and that it was on the point of 
giving way. In order to save the nest from a fall, which 
appeared imminent, they formed the idea of binding the 
slender branch to a stronger one close to it. At last, they 
strengthened all, by means of a little stick which they 
had picked up. 

Toussenel relates that, in the reign of Louis Philippe, 
there was, in a little town of the Oise, distant about twelve 
leagues from Paris, a goldfinch whose intelligence surpassed 
the common order, and which, for a long time, enjoyed 
deserved popularity in his native country. He belonged 
to a courier, who journeyed twice a week to the capital, 
and the bird had been accustomed by degrees to accom- 
pany his master in these expeditions. At first he limited 
himself to flying before the carriage, and resting occasionally 
on the front of the imperial, where his master was seated. 
He flew away now and then to chatter with the birds of his 
own species, which he met with on the way. 

But the finch was soon tired of the slowness of the four- 
wheeled vehicle, and by degrees accustomed himself to take 



156 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



long flights in advance, going the whole of a stage to an-, 
nounce the expected arrival of his master at the hotel of the 
great city, where he waited quietly at a corner of the fire, 
when the weather was stormy, or flew out to meet his owner 
when the sky was bright. 

This charming friendship of man and bird lasted several 
years, during which time every inhabitant of the town in 
question had witnessed each day a convincing proof of this 

philosophical truth, that all saga- 
cious animals have been created 
to love and serve man, and that 
the secret ambition of the most 
intelligent is to be near him. 

Another example of the at- 
tachment of the goldfinch is re- 
lated by M. Oscar Honore, in 
his work entitled " The Affections 
of Animals." A canary and a 
goldfinch shared the same cage, 
and, notwithstanding the differ- 
ence of their origin, the pretty 
captives lived together on the 
best of terms. 'They caressed, 
and tried to outvie each other in 
singing and warbling ; it was indeed a perpetual concert. 
But one day, when the young lady of the house was putting 
a piece of cake into the cage, the canary slipped through 
her hand, and taking French leave, flew away. Imme- 
diately the goldfinch wished to follow its example, but was 
stopped in its career, and from the bottom of its prison 
answered the joyous calls of its runaway companion. From 
this moment the goldfinch ceased to sing. Crouching in a 




Love in a Cage. 



THE GOLDFINCH. 157 

corner, all of a heap, his head hidden beneath some grass, 
he would neither eat nor drink, perceiving which, his young 
mistress went in quest of another canary. The next day 
she brought him a new companion, and at first believed in 
me efficacy of the remedy, for the poor prisoner hearing 
the sound of wings near him, raised his head, changed his 
position immediately, and began to whistle joyfully ; but 
the illusion was of short duration, he quickly perceived 
it was not the one he regretted, and as the noise of the 
new comer only wearied him, he crept into his feeding- 
place, resumed his former position, and the next day was 
dead. 

The history of the goldfinch abounds with similar 
examples of attachment, and his intelligence is on a par 
with his generosity. Everybody knows the absolute devo- 
tion of the male to the female, the family affection which 
characterises the species, the grace and vivacity of their 
language, and their wonderful architectural talent. But the 
study of the captive goldfinch is still more interesting than 
that of the free bird. A tame goldfinch having found that a 
stale piece of bun, by reason of its hardness, was quite un- 
eatable, until it had been softened by exposure to a shower 
of rain, profited by this experience, and ever after soake 1 
any food given him in water. 

We may relate another proof of the intelligence of the 
goldfinch. It is well known that this bird constructs its 
charming little nest in three days. This nest is generally 
made of down, grass, horse-hair, wool, and moss. But the 
birds do not always use the same materials, which is a prool 
they are not guided by instinct alone. 

A pair of goldfinches were seen to change the materials 
of their nest three times, at the will of the proprietor of the 



I58 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

garden, where they had established their domicile. The 
first day he gave them some wool and they made their 
bed of that material. The second day he put within their 
reach some wadding, which they substituted for the wool. 
The third day he gave them some fine down, which soft 
substance they immediately used for the nest. 



THE CANARY. 

How can any one say that the canary is devoid of sense ? 
Is there a form more animated, a brighter eye, a finer or 
more charming little head, than that of this lively bird, 
whose structure is so delicate, colour so soft, feet so slender, 
and movements so graceful ? The canary is all gentleness 
and vivacity. Our favourite canaries are nearly always 
singing, tame, good-tempered, sweet in disposition, good 
husbands, tender fathers, and naturally happy. They cheer 
their mates incessantly by their singing, relieve them in the 
labour of hatching, and take their places for several hours 
during each day; they also join in feeding the young ones, 
and in teaching them all that is necessary. 

In proportion to the weight of their body, their brain 
appears more developed than that of man. 

These birds are very docile and teachable. They will 
lay aside their own natural melody to take up the harmony 
of our voices and instruments. They can learn to whistle, 
and even to speak. The facility with which they learn 
different kinds of performances is another proof of the 
docility of their intelligence. We have seen some at a fair 
which went through their exercises with the precision of old 
grenadiers. 

Fee relates how these little creatures afforded the spec- 
tators much entertaining and interesting amusement. They 
pretend to fall down as if shot; their comrades come 



l6o THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

and carry them off. They guess the meaning of certain 
cards, draw little cannons, pretend to charge and then to 
fire them ; they mount guard, manoeuvre at the word of 
command, and place sentinels. " Partridges," adds Fee, 
"have been taught, but less frequently, to do the same 
tricks." 

One of our friends possessed a male and female canary, 
which, having no materials for making a nest, hit on the 
expedient of tearing out the feathers of their first brood to 
prepare a bed for the second. 

According to Toussenel, the original rd of 'he Canary 
Islands is the most skilful, most intelligent, md most 
indefatigable of songsters. 



THE SLANDERED BIRDS. 



■,,.!!:,,;.,, 



GEESE. 

When observing their awkward gait, long neck, and gaping 
bills, the geese appear heavy, stupid, and awkward; how- 
ever, they are not so stupid as 
they seem. Their eye, less quick 
than that of the eagle, shows 
a certain amount of dignity 
and intelligence. It is true 
they have not strong heads, but 
they have good sight, a keen 
ear, and their vigilance is seldom 
at fault. During their sleep, or 
at feeding time, a sentinel, with 
head and neck extended, is 
always there, ready to give a 
signal to the flock in case of 
alarm. Having saved Rome, it 
certainly cannot be regarded as 
an emblem of stupidity. * 

In Scotland, a young goose 
had formed such an attachment Goose Attachment. 

for its master that it followed him 

everywhere, no matter how great the distance, and even 
through the crowd and tumult of a city. One day this gen- 
tleman walked down one of the most frequented streets, and 

L 




l62 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



entered the shop of a barber to be shaved. The bird waited 
patiently while the operation was being performed, then 
accompanied its master to the house of a friend, after which 
it returned home. It is said that geese do not recognise 

their master when the 



k 



latter has changed his 
dress. The change of 
appearance, in this case, 
does not appear to have 
caused any doubt in the 
sagacity of this bird. It 
recognised its master in 
any dress, seemed to know 
his voice, and expressed 
its satisfaction by cries. 
In Germany, an aged blind 
woman was led to church 
every Sunday by a gander, 
vhich dragged her along, 
holding her gown in his 
beak. As soon as the 
old woman was seated in 
her pew, the gander re- 
tired to the churchyard to 
feed upon the grass, and when the service was ended, 
he conducted his mistress to her home. One day the 
pastor called to pay a visit to this person, but found 
she had gone out; on his expressing some surprise to 
her daughter, that she should trust her mother to go out 
alone, she replied, " Oh, sir, we have nothing to fear, 
my mother is not alone, the gander is with her ! " Wild 
geese are also gifted with remarkable sagacity They fly 




A Goose acting as Guide. 



THE SLANDERED BIRDS. GEESE. I 63 

without tumult; and the order in which their journey is 
accomplished, supposes, says Dr. Franklin, a high degree of 
intelligence and combination. There is an arrangement, a 
method, a system, in virtue of which each individual keeps 
his rank and follows the body of the army with as little 
fatigue as possible. They place themselves in two oblique 
lines, forming a triangle, or in a single line when the 
battalion is not numerous. The bird at the head of the 
triangle cleaves the air first ; when fatigued, he retires to the 
last rank to repose, and others take his place by turns in 
order. We have also observed the same mode of flying 
amongst the bustards, which are numerous in some coun- 
tries. 

The goose appears to be constant in its affections. It 
knows also how to show anger. I remember, when a 
child, if we met with any geese, we used to tease them in 
order to make them angry. They would run after us in a 
rage, seize hold of our clothes, and nip us vigorously, to 
punish us for our insults. 

Geese are sometimes singular in their attachments. We 
knew one which never seemed so happy as when the cat 
was sitting on the back of the bird. The friendship which 
existed between these most dissimilar animals was of too 
singular a character to be often seen. 



TURKEYS. 

THEIR COURAGE AND DEVOTION. 

Turkeys are not less stupid-looking than geese. Their 
still smaller head, heavier body, and grating cry, do not 
plead in their favour. Certain old women, generally tall, 
with red noses, gourmands by nature and drunkards by 
habit, always grumbling out some unintelligible words, often 
appear to have some relationship with turkeys. Toussenel 
has given a satirical description of the turkey. " It is," said 
he, " a glutton of the worst kind, making his belly his god, 
and knowing well that he is doomed to the spit, takes the 
trouble of fattening himself, so that there is no need to aid 
this natural disposition by any surgical operation. His 
extreme voracity is the reason that he often chokes himself 
while eating, and thus earns for him the name of 'the 
glutton ' in the countries bordering on the Loire. Besides, 
he carries the marks of all his vices on his stupid phy- 
siognomy, and has not one note of intelligence. It is said 
that a bad, senseless man resembles a turkey. It is truly 
a flattering portrait. The turkey is more than stupid and 
wicked, more than a glutton and dotard. He is bald like 
all bons-vivants ; he has a face, forehead, and cheeks dis- 
figured by bunches of warts and chaplets of red fleshy 
excrescences, caused by the excesses of the table ! These 
characteristics recall the physiognomy of the vulture, which 



TURKEYS. 165 

the turkey resembles in size, colour, cowardice, and 
voracity. 

" The vulture is a usurer of the worst kind ; the turkey 
is a thick-headed worldling, a financial upstart. There is 
surely a physical and moral relationship between the two 
types. The turkey also carries, at the bottom of his neck, 
a tuft of black hair, an emblem of his brotherhood with the 
goat. This model of gourmands, drunkards, and idlers, 
has an irascible temper. Like rich people of modern 
times, you hear him always blustering and gobbling; you 
see him always red or blue with anger." 

After so terrible a portrait of the turkey, who will dare 
to say anything in his favour ? Is there any living creature 
on the earth that has no good quality? We cannot think 
that there is an animal to be found anywhere in creation, 
however vile, which has not some redeeming quality. 
Epicures will tell you that the flesh of the turkey is ex- 
tremely delicate. Philosophers, who plead in favour of the 
female sex, will affirm that the hen-turkey is the most 
courageous and devoted of mothers ; that she will rather 
die of hunger than leave her eggs. Turkeys, notwithstanding 
their proverbial stupidity, are often very cunning. Audubon 
says that the wild turkeys, being accustomed to perch on 
the naked branches in flocks, are easily discovered by the 
large screech-owl, which flies silently, and frequently surprises 
them. Sometimes, however, its presence is announced by 
a cry from one of the turkeys, and in an instant they are 
all watching the movements of the enemy, which, however, 
selects a victim, and darts upon it like an arrow. It seems 
inevitably lost, unless indeed it can manage to lower its 
head quickly, and spread out its fan-tail to oppose a barrier 
against the strong talons of its assailant. The owl then 



1 66 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

finds only a slanting shield, on which she slips about, 
without being able to seize anything but feathers. The 
turkey immediately jumps to the ground, having lost only 
a few quills. 

It has been thought, up to this time, that among the 
gallinaceous birds, the love of offspring was the exclusive 
privilege of the female; this fact has been attributed tp 
polygamy. But here is an exception to the rule. A 
turkey-hen was about to sit; the male, having been sepa- 
rated from her, appeared so unhappy in his solitude, 
that the owners placed him with his companion. He 
immediately crouched down close to the hen. They 
thought, at first, it was simply a mark of affection, but soon 
discovered that he had taken some of the eggs under his 
wing, and covered them most carefully. The servant who 
had charge of the poultry, thought this method of hatching 
would not be very successful, and replaced the eggs under 
the hen ; but the male was no sooner at liberty than he 
again took some under his charge, as he had done before. 
The master having observed the circumstance, resolved to 
run the chance of the experiment, and left the turkey to 
follow his inclination. He ordered a nest to be prepared 
with as many eggs as the large body of the turkey could 
cover. The turkey appeared delighted with this mark of 
confidence, he sat over the eggs with a patience truly 
maternal, and was so attentive to the duties of incubation 
that he scarcely allowed himself time to go in seach of food. 
At the expiration of the usual time, twenty-eight young ones 
pierced their shells. The turkey who was, in some respects, 
the mother of this numerous brood, seemed somewhat per- 
plexed when he saw this family of little ones pecking 
around him and claiming his constant care. They were 



TURKEYS. 167 

taken from him for fear he should neglect them, or crush 
them with his great claws. 

The turkey mentioned by Audubon showed a degree of 
memory and intelligence not often witnessed in these birds. 
Audubon had brought up this turkey from the nest, and it 
had become perfectly familiar with all the dogs on the 
farm, near the Ohio. One morning, Audubon being in the 
woods with his dog Juno, saw in the distance a fine turkey, 
which he supposed to be a wild one, and sent Juno after 
it. When the dog came near the bird, Audubon saw with 
amazement that each animal seemed on the best of terms 
with the other. It was the pet turkey which had strayed 
into the wood, and recognised Juno apparently before the 
dog detected her bird acquaintance. 



THE CRANE AND THE DRAKE. 

Some years ago a gentleman possessed a pair of slate-coloured 
cranes. One of them, the female, died, and the survivor 
seemed inconsolable. According to all appearance, he 
would soon follow his companion, when the master thought 
of bringing a large looking-glass into the aviary. The 
bird no sooner beheld his own image reflected, than he 
placed himself before the glass, made his toilet by smooth- 
ing his feathers, and exhibited evident signs of contentment. 
The plan was quite successful. The male recovered his 
health, regained his spirits, and lived for several years. Did 
this bird imagine that the image reflected in the glass was 
the shadow of her he mourned ? or was it only a diversion 
from solitude? 

There exists in India a gigantic crane (Ardea argild) 
which shares with the jackals the office of scavenger of the 
public roads. 

Even the drake, whose nasal and discordant voice 
denotes but little intelligence, has on some occasions shown 
great sagacity. The following has been related by one of 
our most eminent naturalists, who heard it from a person 
worthy of credit : — 

"A young lady was sitting in a room adjoining a poultry- 
yard, where chickens, ducks, and geese were disporting 
themselves. A drake came in, approached the lady, seized 
the bottom of her dress with his beak, and pulled it vigorously 




THE DRAKE LEADING THE LADY TO THE RESCUE. 



THE CRANE AND DRAKE. 171 

Feeling startled, she repulsed him with her hand. The bird 
still persisted. Somewhat astonished, she paid some atten- 
tion to this unaccountable pantomime, and discovered that 
the drake wished to drag her out of doors. She got up, he 
waddled out quickly before her. More and more surprised, 
she followed him, and he conducted her to the side of a 
pond where she perceived a duck with its head caught 
in the opening of a sluice. She hastened to release the 
poor creature and restored it to the drake, who, by loud 
quackings and beating of his wings, testified his joy at the 
deliverance of his companion." 



THE MAMMALIA. 

We have now reached a class of animals which, by their 
organisation and intelligence, approach nearest to man. 
The mammalia have a bony skeleton, the centre of which 
is the spine, to which the other organs are attached, and 
whence they all radiate. They possess, also, a brain, in 
which the hemispheres are well developed ; a heart with 
two ventricles and two auricles ; lungs for inhaling air to 
oxydise the blood and stimulate all the organs, the brain 
especially. The thoracic cavity contains the lungs and the 
heart, which are always separated from the abdominal cavity 
by a complete diaphragm. 

In this class the organs of sense acquire great perfection, 
even in their accessory parts. For instance, the greater 
number of each species have distinct eyelids, an external 
ear, and other peculiarities which are not found amongst 
the oviparous animals. The mouth is furnished with fleshy 
lips (except the monotrematous animals*), and the body is 
habitually protected with a specially adapted covering. 

All the mammalia have five senses, but in different 
degrees. Thus, one species, such as the chamois and wild 
goats, that live upon the mountains, have long sight, and can 
see better far away than near. On the contrary, the heavy 
races which inhabit the valleys, such as the hog and rhino- 

* The Echidna, or Australian hedgehog, and the Omithorhynchtts, 
or water-mole of New South Wales, belong to the Monotremes. 



THE MAMMALIA. 1 73 

ceros, can see objects best when near them. Those whose 
eyes are too sensitive to bear the bright light of day, only 
go out during the night, like bats, or even hide themselves 
under the earth, as the armadillo and hedgehog. Those 
creatures which are the weakest, being on that account the 
more timid, are gifted with a keen sense of hearing. This 
enables them to avoid danger. The hare, the rabbit, the 
jerboa, the mouse, and other rodentia, on hearing the 
slightest noise, prepare for flight. The more powerful or 
courageous races, the lion, tiger, cat, and lynx, whose sight 
is keen, even at night, have short ears and weak hearing, 
the strength of one sense generally compensating for the 
weakness of others. 

With the carnivora the sense of taste becomes an eager, 
sanguinary appetite, while the herbivorous animals require a 
delicacy of taste to enable them to distinguish the nourishing 
plant from that which would poison them. " Thus," says 
Virey, "nature adapts the constitution of each individual 
to its destiny on earth. In depriving the armadillo and 
pangolins of teeth, she covers them with a coat of mail or 
scales. In making the hedgehog and porcupine weak and 
defenceless, she enables them to raise at pleasure a forest of 
sharp quills, and these animals have only to roll themselves 
up and become a prickly ball, which is quite impregnable. 
In denying to the herbivorous animals strong teeth and 
hooked claws, nature has armed the head of the ruminants 
with formidable horns; finally, she gives to the timid animals, 
such as the rodentia, either the industry to hide themselves 
in the earth, like the marmot, the rabbit, and the rat; the 
agility to jump from tree to tree, like the squirrel; or great 
quickness in running, and power to take immense leaps in 
fleeing from danger, as the kangaroo, which bounds along 



174 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

like a grasshopper. The llama is quite defenceless, but, if 
attacked, it covers its enemies with a disgusting and bitter 
saliva. The pole-cats, and all of that species, when 
pursued, throw off such execrable odours that their most 
ferocious enemies are obliged to give up the pursuit. 

Some animals frighten their persecutor by frightful cries, 
like the howling monkey; others mislead their foes by a 
number of tricks and careful precautions, and know where 
to obtain safe shelter and seek obscure retreats. 

The smallest species, besides being more numerous 
and multiplying more abundantly, are also more lively in 
proportion to their size than the larger animals. Before 
an elephant or a whale could turn round, a dormouse 
or a mouse would have made a hundred movements, 
the smallness of the limbs giving more unity and more 
control over the body; the shorter muscles contract more 
easily, and each movement is more rapid than amongst 
larger creatures. The mammalia form the intermediate class 
by which the other animals approach to us, and by which 
the inferior species are grouped around man. In fact, 
the family of the apes seems to come very near to the 
human race. On the other hand, the bats, the flying 
squirrel of Siberia, and other like species, appear to link the 
birds to the mammalia; while the armadillo and the pan- 
golin, quadrupeds covered either with a cuirass or with 
scales placed one over the other, seem related to the 
reptile, such as tortoises and lizards. The amphibious 
mammalia, such as the seal, sea-cow, and other cetacea, 
which apparently partake of the nature of fishes, are linked 
to the large and numerous classes of aquatic animals. 

" Thus," says Virey, " the mammalia form the nucleus 
round which are grouped the different superior classes of 



THE MAMMALIA. 1 75 

the animal kingdom as being the most perfect type of 
creation, and the first link in the chain of animated mature 
next to man. Let us compare the various other classes with 
the mammalia. The bird, inhabitant of the air, has received 
a temperament warm and lively, delicate and sensitive; 
always gay, full of fire and inconstancy, like the variable 
region he traverses. The fishes again, the cold creatures of 
the waters, are more apathetic, and occupy themselves 
chiefly with material wants ; their scaly covering seems to 
steel them against gentle impressions, and hinder them 
from feeling acutely, or bringing their intelligence to any- 
thing like perfection. The quadrupeds, on the contrary, 
existing in a medium state, equally below the airy heights, 
as above the deep abyss of the waters — sharing with man 
the possession and sovereignty of the earth — seem to hold 
the middle place between two extremes. They have 
neither the ardour nor petulance of the bird, the lower 
sensibility of the fish, nor the apathy of the reptile ; but, 
living as they do on a dry and firm soil, their nature has 
received more consistency, and their frame more solidity. 
The locomotion of the quadruped has not the rapidity 
of flight, nor the nimbleness of swimming ; but it has 
not the painful slowness of the tortoise and other reptiles. 

All the series of these mammalia represent a long suc- 
cession of inferior structures below that of man. The 
monkey, considered either with regard to his external form 
or internal organisation, seems but a man degenerated. 
Skeleton, members, muscles, veins, nerves, brain, stomach, 
and principal viscera resemble ours almost entirely, not only 
in general structure, but in the ramifications of the lesser ves- 
sels.- In comparison with us it appears an imperfectly formed 
being, although it is perfect as regards its own species. 



176 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

The same scale of graduated inferiority is observed in 
descending from the monkey to the bat ; from the latter to 
sloth, to the carnivora, and through all the series. 

The smaller the extent of the brain, especially the hemi- 
spheres, and the fewer the number of its circumvolutions, the 
more brutal or more animal- do we find the creature. In fact, 
in the monkey itself, and the quadrupeds with long snouts, 
which bend towards the earth, everything tends to the growth 
of the appetites and the development of the senses. They 
think only of satisfying their physical wants. Of all animals 
the quadrupeds are the most capable of understanding us ; 
not only on account of their organisation, but also because 
they are more susceptible of being domesticated. The bird 
has less relationship with us ; for, whatever familiarity or 
intelligence may be attributed to the parrot or tame canary, 
the qualities of the dog, the beaver, and the elephant always 
surpass those of the most clever birds. The more closely 
a well organised animal approaches to us, the more it can 
comprehend us, and we can more easily aid in developing 
its intelligence. This is especially the case with the 
mammalia. 

Nevertheless, the influence of man upon the domestica- 
tion of animals is limited by their fitness for sociability. 
There is not a single domesticated species which does not, 
naturally, live in society. Of all the solitary species, there 
is not a single one which has become domesticated; and 
sociability does not in the least depend on their intel- 
ligence, for the sheep lives in companionship, while the 
lion, fox, and berr live solitarily. Neither does it depend 
on habit ; for the long continuance of the young ones with 
their parents does not produce it. The bear cherishes its 
young ones with as much tenderness and for as long a time 




THE BEAR TENDING HER YOUNG. 



THE MAMMALIA. I 79 

as the dog, and yet the bear is amongst the most solitary 
animals. 

Frederic Cuvier has observed three distinct conditions 
amongst animals : — The solitary species, such as cats, mar- 
tens, bears, and hyenas ; those which live in families, such 
as wolves, roebucks, &c. ; those which live in societies, such 
as beavers, elephants, monkeys, dogs, seals, &c. 

Cuvier has devoted himself to the study of these societies. 
He follows the progress of the animal, which, born in the 
midst of the flock, is there developed, and which, at each 
epoch of its life, learns from all which surrounds it to place 
its new existence in harmony with that of the old ones. 
The feebleness of the young animals is the cause of their 
obedience to the old, which possess strength ; and the 
habit of obeying once adopted .by the young, is the reason 
why the power still remains with the most aged, although 
he has become in turn the most feeble. Whenever a society 
is under the direction of a chief, that chief is nearly always 
the most aged of the troop. Mons. Flourens thinks that 
this order may, perhaps, be disturbed by violent passions. 
If this be the case, the authority passes to another ; and, 
having commenced anew by reason of strength, they pre- 
serve the same by habit. There are, therefore, amongst the 
mammalia species which form real societies ; and it is from 
these alone that man takes all domesticated animals. The 
horse becomes, by domestication, the companion of man ; 
and of all animals of his species is the most naturally so. 

The sheep, which we have reared, follows us, but he 
also follows the flock, in the midst of which he was born. 
According to Cuvier, he looks upon man as the leader of 
the flock. Man, says M. Flourens, is to the animals only 
a member of their society ; all his art is reduced to making 

M 2 



l8o THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

himself acceptable to them as an associate ; for, let him once 
become their associate, he soon becomes their chief, being 
superior to them in intelligence. Man does not, therefore, 
change the natural state of these animals, as BurTon says ; on 
the contrary, he profits by it. In other terms, having found 
the animals sociable, he renders them domesticated; and 
thus domestication is not a singular case, but a simple 
modification, a natural consequence, of animal sociability. 
Nearly all our domestic animals are naturally sociable. The 
ox, goat, pig, dog, rabbit, &c, live, by nature, in society ; 
that is, in herds or flocks. 

The cat is not really a domesticated animal — it is not 
subdued, only tamed • in the same way the bear, lion, and 
tiger even might be tamed, but not domesticated. Man's 
influence will make a sociable animal domesticated, but a 
solitary animal he can only tame. 

M. Flourens attributes the domesticity of animals to 
their social instincts. But whence comes this instinct? 
By what is it determined ? Evidently by the organisation. 
Animals which have hitherto resisted sociability are 
manifestly those in which animalism is most developed, and 
which are better armed to insure their existence and defend 
their life. Man may be able to train the seal for fishing, but 
the greater number of the marsupialia, edentata, and rodentia 
have too little intelligence for him to derive much advantage 
from it. Let us here recall the fact that amongst the mam- 
malia the degree of intelligence is in proportion to the 
development of the brain hemispheres. In the rodentia the 
hemispheres have no circumvolutions ; those of the rumi- 
nants have; those of the pachydermata have more, and 
thus they go on increasing, in the carnivora, monkeys, and 
ourang-outans. The hemispheres of the rodentia have but 



THE MAMMALIA. l8l 

one lobe, those of the ruminants have two, those of the 
pachydermata have three, and still higher developed are 
those of the carnivora, monkeys, ourang-outan, and man. 

With regard to the size of the brain hemispheres before 
and behind, we must note that in the rodentia they do not 
reach the four little elevations called the pyramids, and 
olivary bodies ; in the ruminants they cover them, in the 
pachydermata they reach to the hinder part of the brain, 
they extend over all that part of the brain in the ourang- 
outan, and in man they go beyond it. 

In making these remarks on the organ of intelligence, 
let us not forget that all the other functions re-act on the 
brain. We will now commence the study of intelligence in 
the mammalia with those which possess a brain but little 
developed. Then we will proceed successively to those 
whose intellectual faculties approach nearest to man. 



CETACEA. 

WHALES — MANATEES — DUGONGS NARWHALS — SEALS — 

WALRUS — DOLPHINS— PORPOISES. 

The Cetacea comprehend the whales and all animals allied 
to them by habits and structure. Can intelligence be ex- 
pected among such creatures ? Undoubtedly ; and few 
indeed are the animals which have not faculties perfectly 
adapted to their modes of life. We may advance a step 
further, and say that not even one living creature is found 
unfurnished with faculties suited to its wants : its gifts cor- 
respond to its requirements. The wider our knowledge of 
animal nature becomes, the more deeply are we impressed 
with the conviction that mind, in various degrees, belongs 
to every animal. We may certainly, then, expect to find 
manifestations of this power in the families of the order 
Cetacea.* Of all marine creatures these are most allied to 
ourselves. This will startle those only who are not ac- 
quainted with the structure of the common whale or seal ; 
their warm blood, circulating system, breathing by lungs, 
and the nourishment of the young with the mother's milk, 
place an impassable barrier between them and the other 
inhabitants of the deep. The same peculiarities place them 
in that great class, the mammalia, at the head of which 
man stands as the divinely commissioned chief of the whole 
animal world. 

* A word formed from the Latin Cete, which is from the Greek 
KtjTog, a whale, or large fish. 



CETACEA. 183 

Let no proud son of Adam feel it a degradation to be 
thus associated with whales. We cannot escape from those 
great laws of structure which the Creator has been pleased 
to observe when He designed the higher forms of animal 
life, placed far above the other members of the great animal 
kingdom. We need not shrink from noting either the phy- 
sical resemblances or mental qualities which belong to all. 

The huge size of the whales, perhaps, tends to fix our 
attention exclusively on their massive forms and giant 
strength. A creature measuring seventy feet in length, the 
main artery (aorta) of whose heart is a foot in diameter, and 
which at every beat of the organ ejects twelve gallons of 
blood into the circulating system, is naturally regarded as a 
mere titanic mass of animal life. But these giants of the 
deep possess affections and degrees of intelligence not un- 
worthy of our consideration. They are social animals, 
and thus possess one marked characteristic of intelligent 
creatures. Sometimes five hundred or more spermaceti 
whales are found moving under the guidance of old chiefs. 
The fishermen call these associations " schools," and the 
leaders " schoolmasters f terms not quite inappropriate 
when it is borne in mind that the young whales form the 
majority of such groups. Some of these "schools" are 
wholly composed of females, guarded by two or three 
sagacious " schoolmasters," whose office can hardly be a 
sinecure. Others consist of the young animals carefully 
tended by their mothers. Troops, forty or fifty in number, 
will often follow a ship for miles if not attacked. 

These social affections in the whale are most strongly 
shown in the care and attention bestowed upon the young. 
All who have seen the mother whale giving suck to her 
one or two " infants," and have watched the young playing 






184 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

round the parent, need no proof that the great law of love 
acts strongly in these huge children of the deep. The 
affection of the common Greenland whale for her young is 
often used to accomplish her destruction. If the young one 
can be struck with the harpoon, the fishermen know that the 
mother will encounter every peril in the attempt to extricate 
her child. Sometimes her fury and desperation have ex- 
posed the assailants to the most imminent danger. Captain 
Scoresby, who witnessed the capture of so many whales, gives 
several accounts of the determined courage shown by the 
mother whales in the attempt to rescue their young. Some 
caught " the baby" by their flippers or fins, and tried to drag 
it away, and lost their own lives in the incessant attempts to 
save the harpooned little one. In all these struggles the 
whale evidently understood the nature of the peril and the 
object of her human foes. The mode in which the agonised 
whale endeavours to carry off the young, has all the appear- 
ance of an intelligent act. The " infant" is taken under the 
swimming paw or fin of the mother, and pressed closely by 
the fin-hand to the parent's side, much in the same manner 
as a child is sometimes carried for a short distance under a 
woman's arm. The strong pressure of the paw, nine feet long 
and five wide, is quite sufficient to drag off the young with a 
hundred yards of rope and harpoon attached to the body. 

Even in the mode of feeding her young, the whale shows 
a thorough sense of the little creature's wants, and adapts 
her position in the water to its requirements. When the 
young one wishes to take the breast, the mother floats on 
her side, and thus enables the "child" to feed with ease. 
The whale's milk is said to be much richer than that of the 
cow, so that the infant cetacean is really well cared for in 
the matter of food. 



CETACEA. 185 

The management of the singular "whalebone" trap, 
with which the mouth of the Greenland whale is furnished, 
might seem to require some skill in the animal ; probably, 
however, the opening and closing of so many hundred plates 
of baleen to let in the water and retain the " whale's food,"* 
may be as involuntary as the action of the human epiglottis 
in closing the opening to the windpipe, when the food 
passes over. 

The energy which whales evince when pierced by the 
harpoon must ever prevent them from being classed among 
the "sluggish" animals. Scoresby records a case of one of 
these animals descending for a mile into the ocean's depths at 
one plunge, dragging after it that enormous length of rope. 
Even, after such a dive, the furious plunges of the whale 
would have probably drawn the large boat under the water 
also, had not a fresh crew arrived with more rope. The 
nervous and muscular energy required for so grand a plunge 
may be estimated from the fact that the pressure of water 
on the body of such an animal at that depth must have 
exceeded 210,000 tons. 

The other members of the cetacean order show an in- 
telligence and energy equal, if not even superior, to that of 
the whale. Two genera are vegetable feeders, the manatees 
and dugongs. The former obtain their name from the Latin 
manus, a hand, on account of the hand-like form of the 
nippers, in which the bones of the four fingers can be dis- 
tinctly traced. These manatees having the bosoms placed 
high on the breast, and the mouth surrounded with hair, 
when seen swimming with head above water and baby at the 
breast, not unnaturally originated the poetic stories of mer- 

* The Clio Borealis, a small mollusc which swarms in the Northern 
Ocean. 



1 86 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

maids and mer-men. Thus the "woman-fish," and "the 
bearded man of the sea," gave birth to many a wondrous 
tale of old romance. The manatee excels, if possible, the 
common whale in affection and care for the young, which 
are said to be placed in the centre of the troop on the 
approach of danger. 

The dugongs (H&licore)* another genus of vegetable- 
feeding cetaceans, are just as remarkable as the manatees for 
the intelligence manifested in the care of the young. Indeed, 
Professor Owen himself has not given more attention to the 
structure of the dugong's teeth than these inoffensive people 
of the sea devote to the bringing up of their families. On 
this account the half-civilized tribes of the South Pacific 
Ocean regard the dugongs as the very model of maternal 
tenderness. Does not this sound like a delicate bit of irony 
on uncultured humanity ? A cetacean is selected as the 
type of motherly love ! 

The narwhal, or unicorn-whale, may show less intelli- 
gence than some other members of the order, but this 
animal appears to be a clever harpooner, piercing fishes 
with its seven feet long horn or tusk before swallowing them. 
To draw into its smooth, toothless mouth, a strong and living 
fish, would be impossible, and therefore the narwhal is fur- 
nished with a long spear-like tusk with which to kill its prey. 
This animal is also thought to find another use for this 
weapon. When the shallow arctic waters, in which the 
narwhal delights to live, are frozen over, the creature must 
either move out into the deeper and unfrozen seas, or pierce 
the ice in the shoal waters in order to obtain breathing 
holes. The latter is the course often adopted ; the solid 

* This compound Greek word signifies mer-maid, viz., maid of 
the sea. 



CETACEA. 187 

ivory tusks being well fitted to split up any but the thickest 
ice. Curiosity is sometimes playfully imputed to Eve's 
daughters as a fault, but this quality is, nevertheless, a mark 
of intelligence. The narwhals possess it in a high degree. 
The sight of a ship attracts the amazed herd, which swims 
round her again and again, as if endeavouring to com- 
prehend the nature of the mass before them. The tusk of 
the narwhal was often placed in old museums as a true 
unicorn's horn, but for this misrepresentation our simple- 
minded cetacean is not responsible. 

The seals must not be passed over when considering the 
intelligence of the order to which they belong. Some class 
them amongst the quadrupeds, but the less we refer to the 
four feet of the seal the better for our own repute. The 
skill, acuteness, and memory of seals will be admitted by all 
those who are most familiar with them. The amazing speed 
with which they dodge a shot, plunging at the moment of 
the flash, is well known to hunters. The activity and 
courage displayed by them in hunting the swift salmon has 
moved the highest indignation of many a fisherman. Sir 
Walter Scott was well aware of the cunning and courage of 
the seal when representing in " The Antiquary" the laugh- 
able overthrow of MTntyre by the enraged animal he had 
endeavoured to capture. Many readers will recollect how 
the captain was prostrated, and the antiquary's stick carried 
off by the victorious " phoca." The seal, however, is not 
usually the assailant of man, save in defence of itself or 
young ones. Then, indeed, it will make a good fight, for 
which none can blame the creature. The animal has often 
been tamed so far as to visit, at intervals, the cottage of its 
benefactor, and even to apply for shelter at the door during 
those terrible tempests which compel the seal to seek a 






1 88 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

shelter from their fury ; at such times the storm-beaten 
animal utters a wailing cry, so like that of an infant as to 
deceive the fishermen's wives. Of course, these cases of seal 
domestication are rare, but even these few are sufficient to in- 
dicate the capacities of the creature. Some have even been 
taught to obey words of command, to stand up, lie down, 
give a paw like a dog, and to perform other feats indicating 
the possession of superior teachable capacities. All their 
senses are highly developed. The eye is remarkably keen, 
and the seal can shorten the axis of vision by bringing the 
crystalline lens nearer to the back of the eye when the 
animal is on the land. These cetacea are also quick of 
hearing, and appear to possess an acute sense of smell. 
With these endowments it may easily be understood that 
all the species of this family can hunt the most active fish, 
as surely as trained hounds can pursue the fox or the stag. 
All are characterised by intense affection for their young. 
The great elephant seal (Macrorhinus)* and the species 
called the " sea lion," will lose their lives in defence of the 
" cubs" if unable to carry them off. The formidable walrus 
seals, armed with mighty tusks, though less intelligent than 
the common seals, show a high degree of energy when 
attacked, even attempting to rescue their wounded com- 
panions, and tearing the oars with their mouths from the 
hands of the sailors in the assaulting boats. 

The dolphins, called also " white whales," are noted for 
their social habits, living in large societies, which swim round 
ships and boats with surprising speed. The elegant shape, 
graceful motions, whitish colour, and the singular smallness 
of their blue eyes, cause even the utilitarian whalers to 

* The word denotes long nose, the allusion being to the trunk on 
the head of this seal. 



CETACEA. 189 

regard these cetacea as the beauties of the sea; The in- 
telligence of the dolphin calls for no special remark, as they 
possess the same amount of energy, and manifest a like 
care for the young, which distinguish the other genera of 
the order. Why the dolphin should have been so far 
honoured in old times as to give the title of Dauphin* to 
the elder sons of the kings of France, and to bestow a name 
on one of the provinces of that country, is not very evident. 
As the broom plant in the cap of the Earl of Anjou may 
have originated the surname plantagenet, so the dolphin 
symbol on the helmet of Guy, Count of Vienne, may be 
the source of the once famous title of Dauphin. If the 
historian is thus reminded of the dolphin, the animal is 
also fated to live in the records of literature and the annals 
of astronomy. The scholar will not forget the " delphin 
classics," and the constellation "Delphinus" compels even 
science to remember a cetacean so strangely thrown amongst 
the stars. 

The porpoise is, probably, equal to the dolphin in in- 
telligence, though it has failed to gain the " threefold 
honours" of the latter. It is devoted to its young, an 
energetic and keen hunter of fish, eminently social, and 
distinguished for courage. 

Looking over the various families of the cetacea, who 
can say that any one is deficient in the faculties required by 
the peculiar structure and wants of each? But it they 
possess the affections, courage, energy, and skill suited to 
their modes of life, we must then place them amongst the 
intelligent though lower orders of the mammalia. 

* French for dolphin ; the Latin is delphinus. 



THE MARSUPIALIA. 

Few readers need to be informed that a certain number of 
animals are thus named from the pouch (Latin, marsupium) 
in which the immature young are received after birth. The 
opossums, flying squirrels, and kangaroos are well-known 
animals of this order. This remarkable section of the 
great mammalia class seems, at the first view, most unlikely 
to furnish examples of animal intelligence. But what is our 
test of this faculty in what are called brute creatures ? Do 
we expect them to imitate our works, to act in our modes, 
and, in a word, to exhibit something like human reason? 
This is surely not very rational in us. Why should 
animals differing in structure from ourselves be expected 
to act like man ? The true question seems to be this : Do 
those creatures adapt their special organs and capacities to 
the various circumstances in which they are placed ? Do 
they use their peculiar tools in the best possible way ? If 
the answer must be in the affirmative, then how can the 
inference that the lower animals possess an intelligence 
suited to their modes of life be avoided ? Probably few 
would deny this general statement, yet many persons seem 
almost terrified at the notion of a dog reasoning or an 
elephant showing judgment or prudence. The more our 
knowledge of the animal kingdom is extended, the more 
abundant do the proofs of a widely diffused intelligence in 
all orders, genera, and species become. We may hide this 
great fact under the word i?istinct, but if there are human 
instincts united with a high understanding in man, why 



THE MARSUPIALIA. 191 

should we shrink from admitting that special instincts may- 
be combined with a lower order of intelligence in such 
creatures as the kangaroo and opossum ? 

We pass over, in this place, the peculiarities presented 
by the singular pouch of the marsupial animals, and limit 
our observations to the manifestations of intelligence given 
by the various genera. No reader will expect from these 
creatures the sagacity of the dog or the capacity of the 
horse. The talents of the marsupials are suited to their 
wants, and these are not very various or numerous. The 
kangaroo has been called " stupid," and, doubtless, when 
compared with the imitative ape or the active tiger, the 
animal appears somewhat sheepish. The keepers of kanga- 
roos have thought that these creatures fail to recognise their 
attendants, and attribute this to feeble perceptions or want 
of memory. It is, however, impossible for these men to 
know what view the imprisoned kangaroo takes of its gaolers : 
its sedateness is no proof of dulness. The brain is cer- 
tainly deficient in that peculiar band of nervous matter 
called the corpus callosum, which connects, in other mam- 
malia, the two hemispheres of the cerebrum, or outer brain. 
On this account, Professor Owen has placed all the marsu- 
pials in an order named Tymcephala.* Whatever intelligence 
the kangaroo has must be inferred from its actions rather 
than from unexplained peculiarities of the brain. The 
creature, when first seen by Captain Cook and his party, 
showed itself perfectly able to look after its own interests 
and provide for its own safety. Those who, judging from 
its sheepish air, thought dogs would soon capture such an 
animal, were amazed at the activity and energy displayed by 
the hunted creature. The speed of greyhounds was sorely 

* Separated brains. 



192 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

tried by an animal which leaped over obstacles eight feet 
high. This style of going across a country by a succession 
of the most surprising leaps, soon made both dogs and men 
respect the racing powers of the kangaroo. Even should 
the animal be brought to bay, it employs its natural weapons 
of defence with a skill and determination admitting of no 
dispute. The hind feet of the kangaroo are armed with 
powerful claws, and the tail is so thick and powerful that 
the creature can employ the organ as a strong prop to 
support the body in an erect position. Now judge of the 
intelligence with which these tools and weapons are used. 
The animal stands at bay, the dogs rush on ; but, see ! the 
kangaroo raises one of its powerful hind feet, and, with a 
sweep of the limb, nearly tears open the body of the fore- 
most dog by means of the knife-like claw. The animal is 
perfectly aware of the power of its armed foot ; and if the 
creature had the reasoning powers of a Newton, it could 
not use the weapon more efficiently. This does not arise 
from any natural tendency to strike at objects with the hind 
foot. The animal is naturally timid and peaceful, showing 
its energies and powers of resistance only when driven to 
fight in self-defence. The value of the tail as a helper in 
the conflict is felt by the kangaroo. When the hind foot is 
raised to strike the foe, the animal would be supported on 
one foot only, for the front legs are too short to give any 
aid in steadying the creature's body when it strikes at the 
enemy. Without the support of the tail the animal must 
certainly fall, and the dogs would then have an easy victory. 
But when the hind foot is raised to deal the blow, the strong 
and muscular tail is so placed as to prop up in a most 
effectual manner this fighting " Australian sheep." There 
is nothing "stupid" in this use of the natural organs. 



THE MARSUPIALIA. 1 93 

The management of the young by the kangaroo mother 
proves the possession not only of affection but of intelli- 
gence. The young one, when born, is only about an inch 
long, and is in all respects an undeveloped animal. The 
mother seems to be perfectly aware of this, carefully places 
the infant in the pouch, and guides it to her breast, to which 
the little thing immediately clings. Thus enclosed in this 
singular living bag, the infant kangaroo is carefully tended 
by the mother for about nine months. By that time the 
young one has grown into a fine, active baby, weighing 
about twelve pounds, and able to get in and out of the 
pouch without the parent's help. When experimenting 
naturalists have gently separated the young from the nipple, 
the mother has found the means of replacing the little 
creature's mouth on the source of nourishment. The young 
one is for some time too feeble to crawl up from the bottom 
of the pouch to the nipple, and must be placed there by the 
soft fleshy lips of the mother. She has been seen on these 
occasions to open the pouch with her fore-paws, and thrust 
in her long slender head, doubtless with the object of pro- 
perly fixing the young one. It will be seen, therefore, that 
the kangaroo has an intelligence which guides the animal to 
use well its means of defence, and to adapt itself to the 
peculiar circumstances in which naturalists have sometimes 
placed captured individuals. Sydney Smith's humorous 
description of the kangaroo has, of course, a slight touch of 
exaggeration : " A monstrous animal, as tall as a grenadier, 
with the head of a rabbit, a tail as big as a bed post, hop- 
ping along at the rate of five hops to a mile, with three or 
four young kangaroos looking out of the pouch to see what 
is passing." 

The words " as tall as a grenadier" may pass, as the 

N 



194 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

animal's body equals in size that of a sheep, and has been 
known to weigh about 140 lbs. The " five hops to a mile" 
are, of course, beyond the powers of the most energetic of 
kangaroos, and " the four young looking out of the pouch" 
may be reduced to one, that being the usual number of the 
family. 

Another marsupial animal, the opossum, is not much 
larger than a common cat, but was called by some of the 
earlier American travellers "the wonder of all the land 
animals," and one sums up his description by the pithy 
remark, " If a cat has nine lives, this creature surely has 
nineteen." The reason assigned for this statement was 
that an opossum would live though " every bone in its skin" 
were broken. The reason given has one defect : it is not 
true. The ingenuity with which the Virginian opossum 
avoids the snares and baffles the stratagems of the hunter, 
has long made it famous in the annals of forest life. It 
may be " stupid" when a prisoner,, but there is no doubt of 
the acuteness of the wild animal. It is positively stated 
that a captured opossum will feign death, remaining perfectly 
passive, and to all appearance unconscious, in spite of the 
pinches, kicks, and bufferings of the sceptical hunters. But 
no sooner is the animal left on the ground alone, the 
hunters hiding themselves behind trees, than the cool and 
cunning creature darts off to the nearest tree, taking refuge 
in the thick foliage of the loftiest branches. Was this the 
result of mere nervous dread, producing inability to move, 
or of a calculation by the animal that perfect quietude 
would secure it from harm ? The former can hardly be the 
case, as the moment the opossum finds itself alone it darts 
off with the utmost speed. On the other hand, it does seem 
almost beyond belief that a wild animal should have such 



THE MARSUPIALIA. 195 

command over its impulses as the theory of " pretending to 
be dead" supposes. There is, however, abundant evidence 
to lead us to the conclusion that many animals have ex- 
hibited this wonderful degree of self-control, and there 
is, therefore, no sufficient a priori argument against its 
possession by the " 'cute opossum." Such questions must 
ever be decided by facts, independently of speculations 
and prejudices. 

The flying squirrel, or petaurus, is another of the 
" stupid" marsupialia, which shows, in all its movements, 
that it knows how to make the very best use of its natural 
organs. This, all readers will bear in mind, is the true test 
of animal intelligence. Now, we all know that the petaurus 
does not fly, but only uses, in a most effective manner, the 
loose skin which extends along the sides from the fore to 
the hind legs. When the active creature leaps from tree to 
tree in the gloom of the evening, the action of the extended 
limbs causes the folds of the skin to expand like a para- 
chute, by which the "flying squirrel" is able to support 
itself in the air, when making its extraordinary bounds from 
one distant branch to another. The due calculation of 
distances, the proper expansion of the extensible skin, 
according to the support required, and the adaptation 
of the parachute power to sudden emergencies, cannot be 
reasonably attributed to mere animal impulse. 

Thus we find, even in these lower forms of mammalian 
life, those exhibitions of energy and skilful use of natural 
tools which indicate an intelligence observant of circum- 
stances and qualified to use them rightly. 



THE EDENTATA. 

ANT-EATER — SLOTH — ECHIDNA — ARMADILLO — AARD-VARK — • 
ORNITHORHYNCHUS. 

This order of animals is thus named from the absence of 
the front teeth in the jaw. This is no defect in these crea- 
tures, but an adaptation of structure to their mode of life. 
They do not rank high in intelligence, but we may find 
undoubted marks of prudence and acuteness in some of the 
genera. Readers will probably remember that the gigantic 
megatherium* which inhabited the ancient earth is placed 
in this singular order by the scientific students of ancient 
living forms. The edentata are thus connected with the 
primeval quadrupeds which roamed over the plains of earth 
when there was "not a man to till the ground." 

The great ant-eater {Myrmecophaga jubata), about the 
size of a large dog, is often described as most "stupid," the 
chief evidence being that the animal cannot run very fast, 
the peculiar form of the feet preventing rapid motion. But 
as the creature is not intended to be a racer, it is as un- 
reasonable to call it dull on this ground as it would be to 
term men fools because they are unable to fly. Let us 
watch the mode in which the ant-eater obtains a dinner, and 
then say how, with its peculiar structure, it could act more 
intelligently. The reader will bear in mind that this animal, 
sometimes called the ant-bear, has no teeth, but possesses 
a long muzzle, an extensible tongue, and powerful claws. 
* Great animal. 



I 



THE EDENTATA. 1 9'/ 

Now, in what manner shall the animal obtain its food ? It 
cannot masticate vegetables; to tear and rend fleshy sub- 
stances is still more out of the question. But in the wide 
plains of South America the white ants swarm, and erect 
their mound-like nests in hundreds on the swampy savan- 
nahs. The ant-eater knows that these hills contain his only 
possible food; but how shall he capture enough of such 
insects to make a dinner for himself? He has his weapons, 
and he knows how to use them. The animal approaches an 
ant-hill ; the mud-walls of the insect nest are baked by the 
tropical sun into a dry and stone-like mass ; but the ant- 
eater quickly scratches a hole in the side with his powerful 
and hook-like claws. When the breach is made, the enraged 
ants pour out to inflict punishment on the invader of their 
home. This is precisely what the ant-eater wishes. No 
sooner do the irritated insects swarm out beyond the open- 
ing, than the cunning assailant lengthens his elastic tongue, 
and, projecting it far beyond the end of his mouth, draws the 
organ over the thick crowds of ants. Hundreds stick to the 
glutinous tongue, and are instantly swallowed. The clever 
operation is repeated again and again, until the ant-eater is 
satisfied with his dinner, when he soberly retreats to his 
hole, and goes to sleep. The reader will not, we think, be 
able to point out any blunder in the whole of this pro- 
ceeding. The suitable food is sought in the proper place, 
and it is obtained in the only way possible. The ant-eater 
must be aware that his tongue is covered with a gummy 
fluid which not only takes up the ants, but protects the 
organ from the bites of the insects. Were time allowed to 
the ants, they would soon extricate themselves, or at least 
pierce through the thin glutinous coating of the tongue. 
Their foe seems perfectly aware of this, and accordingly 



198 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

retracts his elastic organ with such rapidity that in the space 
of one second it is twice drawn into the mouth covered with 
the ants. We must admit that the ant-eater uses his special 
tools well — that is to say, with intelligence. 

The ant-eaters are the only true edentata, not having 
any teeth in their long tube-like mouth, while other genera 
of the order have both molar and canine teeth. 

The echidna, or Australian hedgehog, captures the ants 
with its elongated tongue in the same way as the ant-eater. 
The singularly clever manner in which this little animal 
employs its tongue to sweep insects into a heap, and then 
collect them on the glutinous organ, may well suggest high 
notions of its intelligence. This spine-covered edentata is, 
however, but little known, and further knowledge of its 
peculiar habits are necessary before we can form a definite 
judgment of its character. 

The sloth, or ai, another genus of the edentate order, 
received its common English name from those who were 
ignorant of its habits. When seen upon the ground, it is 
indeed a " sloth ;" and BurTon may well be pardoned for 
the doleful ditty in which he bemoans the woes of the sloth, 
though he himself would not, possibly, have appeared to 
great advantage had he been suspended in the air or sub- 
merged in the Seine. Yet this would be almost as natural to 
man as the ground to the sloth. Those who have seen the 
creature in the forest during a tempest of wind, as the animal 
springs from branch to branch and tree to tree with all the 
activity of a squirrel, will admire the energy and skill with 
which it clings, back downwards, to the rocking branches. 
To Mr. Waterton is due the honour of clearly describing the 
natural habits of the sloth, which some naturalists had almost 
regarded as a sad specimen of defective organisation. Here 



THE EDENTATA. 1 99 

is another instance of our tendency to hasty generalisation 
respecting animals. We see a creature under artificial con- 
ditions ; it then appears puzzled and dull, and we cry, " How- 
stupid ! " Further knowledge shows the supposed dullard to 
be an energetic and sprightly being. This lesson will have 
to be repeated in a thousand forms before we shall generally 
become conscious of the wide range of animal intelligence. 
No museums, however rich in collections, can give much 
instruction on this point ; the living animals must be seen 
and watched. Even zoological gardens will fail to give the 
full lesson ; it is in their natural haunts and unrestrained 
modes of life that the intelligence of animals is manifested. 
Hence the great importance attached to the observations of 
travelling naturalists, who alone have the opportunities of 
seeing animal life in all the varieties of native freedom. 
England and America boast of many such, whose labours 
are destined to clear away many an error which hides from 
our view the fulness and variety of animal intelligence. 
Had zoologists not advanced beyond the facts known to 
BurTon, we should have been still repeating the story of the 
sloth's stupidity or unhappy organisation. Even now we 
only see enough to prove that the old notions are wrong, 
and we await further knowledge respecting a quadruped fitted 
to live in trees, and sleeping with back downwards. 

The armadillo is, of course, too rarely examined in this 
country for us to become at all familiar with its habits. The 
animal is by no means the listless creature which a hasty 
glance might lead us to suppose. Its skill and energy in 
burrowing are truly remarkable, the hole being mined with 
a rapidity which might excite the envy of an engineer. In 
order to obtain some grain lying on the ground, under a 
cover, an armadillo drove his trench beneath the ground so 



200 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

as to come exactly under the spot where the coveted food 
was lying. The subterranean tunnel borer did not deviate 
an inch to the right or to the left. Here was a special plan 
devised and carried out with a definite purpose in view. 
One species of armadillo (the Matacd), when attacked, rolls 
itself up so firmly as to defy all attempts to pierce the body. 
Its patience is unconquerable, and it will preserve its rounded 
shape until convinced that the danger has passed. 

The aard-vark {Orycteropus)* or "earth-pig" of Cape 
Colony, is allied both to the armadilloes and the ant-eaters, 
resembling the former in structure, and the latter in its 
mode of procuring ants for food. In the silence of night the 
aard-vark bores into the sides of the huge ant-hill, and. 
thrusting its tongue into the hole, receives upon the extended 
member successive swarms of ants. 

We must not omit to notice here that singular animal 
known as the duck-bill, or water-mole, of Australia ; and in 
scientific treatises called Ornithorhynchus.\ An animal with 
the mouth of a duck, the body of a quadruped, and dis- 
tinguished by some extraordinary peculiarities of structure, 
might well occupy us in describing its marvellous organisa- 
tion. But we have mentioned the creature in this place 
simply with the view of calling attention to the fact that this 
singular animal is not without intelligence. It is quick of 
eye and ear, and cautious must the rifleman be who hopes 
to shoot this " mole " as it swims across a river. The 
animal rivals our mole in engineering skill, making a tunnel 
above ten feet long in the bank of a stream, and forming 
a warm nest at the end of the passage. The " combing 

* Aard-vark is Dutch for earth-pig ; Orycteropus is Greek for a 
digging foot. 

f Bird-beaked. 



THE EDENTATA. 201 

of the fur " shows, in no small degree, the ingenuity of the 
animal. The hind foot is provided with a claw, at first 
supposed to be a dangerous weapon, but now ascertained to 
form a part of the creature's toilet apparatus. The claw is 
really a comb, with which the hairs of the fur are neatly 
smoothed and separated by the duck-bill, which seems 
especially anxious to keep its coat in good condition. 

We now conclude this chapter by asking the reader to 
point out any one of the above-named edentata which can 
be called stupid. Each uses its natural weapons in the best 
way. But is not this intelligence ? 



THE RODENTIA. 

The rodentia, such as hares, rabbits, and rats, have two long 
cutting front teeth to each jaw, and generally three or four 
molar teeth. A vacant space, similar to that in the lower jaw 
of a horse, separates their incisors from their molars. The 
number of genera of this order is very considerable, and not 
less than four hundred species are known; amongst them are 
the squirrels, marmots, beavers, the field-mouse (to which the 
musk-rat of India belongs), the rats, the jerboa or jumping 
rat, the Columbian rats, which have the eyes hidden under 
the skin, the moles, porcupines, agouti, the Indian hog, and 
the cavey. 

Hares and rabbits are also rodentia; but they differ 
from those already named, inasmuch as they have at the 
back of their upper incisors a pair of teeth smaller and 
differently formed. This characteristic is found amongst 
the lagomys, or " calling hare," a small rodent of Alpine 
regions now unknown in Western Europe, but which was 
found here during the first part of the tertiary geological 
period. 

There are found in the neighbourhood of Paris fossil 
remains of these rodents, with those of the marmot and 
hamsters, animals no longer existing in France, but which 
were formerly innumerable, and lived together with certain 
species still remaining, such as the dormice and field-mice. 

The rodentia are usually timid, and addicted to gnawing 
vegetable substances. They are most of them small, though 



THE RODENTIA. 203 

one of the class, the Patagonian cavey, is as large as a pig. 
The porcupine, beaver, marmot, hare, and rabbit belong to 
the larger kinds. Their hind legs, and the hinder part of 
the body, are generally stronger than the fore part. They 
run and jump well, have a snout more or less curved, a 
mouth moderately open, and the upper lip generally cloven 
perpendicularly, a peculiarity very visible in the hare. Their 
hearing is generally keen, the length of the ears being pro- 
portioned to the use the animal must make of them foi 
safety. The burrowers have very small ears ; those which 
live on the banks of rivers or streams, and swim much, 
such as the beaver and water-rat, have short round ears, 
which move but little ; the rats, mice, rabbits, and hares, 
animals which escape danger by flight, have, on the con- 
trary, the ear well developed. The head is flat ; the neck 
is generally short, and always consists of seven vertebrae. 

Their eyes are placed at the sides of the head, and are 
more or less developed according to the habits of the 
animal. Thus, in rabbits, hares, pole-cats, and dormice, they 
are large and projecting ; in rats, squirrels, and some other 
species, they are of a moderate size ; in the large field-mouse 
and mole, which pass a great part of their life under 
ground, they are very small ; in the spalax or Columbian 
rat, which never leaves its subterranean abode, they are 
but imperfectly formed. 

Their brain is much more imperfect than that of the 
other mammalia. From the organisation of these animals, 
it is easy to infer the amount of their intelligence, which 
is generally less than that of the ruminants, the pachyder- 
mata, carnivora, and quadrumana. One cause of the slow 
growth of the intellect in a certain number of rodents 
is the variableness of their temperature. Certain of them 



204 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

resemble reptiles in the lowering of their temperature 
when the weather becomes colder. Immediately the tem- 
perature begins to fall in a sensible degree, and more par- 
ticularly when their food is beginning to fail, the marmots 
and dormice go into a torpid state ; their organs scarcely 
act at all, but are not wholly suspended ; the circulation 
is much enfeebled, and the respiratory combustion has 
lost a great portion of its intensity. A marmot which in 
a state of activity burns above one grain of carbon each 
hour for every two pounds of its weight, does not consume 
more than the thirtieth part of a grain when it has fallen 
into its winter sleep. Thus the temperature of these animals 
lowers very considerably. Spallanzani even maintains that 
a torpid marmot does not require to breathe at all, and 
that it could be plunged into poisonous gas and not perish. 
This lowering of the circulation, respiration, and tem- 
perature, necessarily produces slowness in the cerebral 
activity, but this phenomenon is the exception amongst 
the rodentia, and we shall see that intelligence is tolerably 
developed in these animals. 

The species are mostly herbivorous, timid, and fearful, 
they have no means of defence, and only find safety in 
flight. Some whose food is of a mixed kind — both animal 
and vegetable — as the rats, are often very ferocious. 

The strong incisor teeth of the rodents are admirably 
formed for the purpose of cutting through the hardest 
substances. These teeth are, in truth, natural chisels, so 
organised as always to preserve a sharp edge. The beauty 
of the contrivance is that the very action of this tool, in- 
stead of blunting, tends to preserve its keenness. The 
front part of the tooth is of enamel, the hinder section of 
bone. The latter part, being the softer, soon wears down 



THE RODENTIA. 205 

by the friction of the teeth in cutting, thus leaving the razor- 
like edge of the enamel in front. So it happens that work 
actually sharpens instead of blunting these admirably de- 
signed cutting instruments. The most scientific edge-tool 
makers form their instruments on the principles of construc- 
tion seen in the teeth of rodents. The skilful combination 
of hard and soft iron leads to the same result as the union 
of the enamel with bone in the teeth of these animals. 

But the best chisel made by man cannot reproduce itself, 
whereas the cutting tools of the rodentia grow from the root 
upwards as the top wears away. These gnawing animals 
are, then, provided with first-rate tools, and we shall pro- 
bably find that the workmen are qualified to use them. 

The jumping power possessed by nearly all the animals 
of this order will be seen to arise from their peculiar organi- 
sation. The muscles and bones of the hind legs are, in 
general, much stronger than those of the front, and thus the 
mouse makes with ease those bounds which often defeat 
the energetic spring of the cat. 

The brains of the rodentia are marked by one peculiarity. 
The elevated lines of nervous matter, called convolutions, 
which characterise the brains of man, and most of the mam- 
malia, are almost absent in the cerebral mass of the rodents. 
No conclusion can be safely drawn from this conformation 
unfavourable to the intelligence of these animals. Some of 
them are far too acute for us to infer imbecility from the 
mere smoothness of the brain's surface. 

It may be right to notice that animals of the rodent 
order were numerous in the ancient geological ages, long 
prior to the human period. Heaps of their bones, preserved 
beneath diluvial beds of earth, have been discovered in the 
rocks of both the Eastern and Western continents. 



RATS. 

ATTACHMENT OF RATS FOR EACH OTHER. — THEIR FORE- 
SIGHT, SKILL, AND CUNNING. THE POLISH LEGEND. 

INTELLIGENCE IN MICE, LEMMINGS, MARMOTS, AND 
JERBOAS. 

Most naturalists have placed rats amongst the obnoxious 
animals. The rat is, however, a domestic animal, and loves 
human abodes, is fond of dwelling amongst the poor, and 
much prefers a ruined house, with its walls of mud and clay, 
to the palace of a king. Some writers think its habits are 
patriarchal, and fancy its long, white beard, prominent eye- 
brows, quick and penetrating eyes, and saturnine manner, 
give it a respectable and noble aspect ! 

The rat is associated with every period in the history 
of mankind. This animal has followed armies, and joined 
in great maritime expeditions, while all invading hordes 
have brought a particular kind of rat in their train. We 
can thus, in the different varieties of this creature, trace the 
succession of the human races established on the surface 
of every territory. 

The brown rat appeared in England about the year 
1736, but whether brought from Russia or India is dis- 
puted. It is simply a fable that it reached this country with 
George I. It has been sometimes called the Norway rat, 
but with little reason, as it is but a colonist there. This 
rat has now become a veritable plague to Great Britain, 
where it has devoured all the other kinds. The rat, like 



RATS. 209 

the barbarian, is sometimes a scourge, which God sends 
amongst civilised nations, to warn them, and punish them 
for their errors. According to some writers, the rat has 
been commissioned, more than once, with the execution of 
divine sentences, and occupies, on this account, an im- 
portant place in the destinies of humanity. 

" It was the field-mouse of Egypt," says one, " which 
destroyed the army of Sennacherib, by devouring all the 
cords of the bows and fastenings of the shields belonging 
to the Assyrians, during the night." 

Pliny has filled an entire chapter of his eighth book, in 
relating the history of cities destroyed by the ravages of 
animals. The rat may have played an important part in 
these overthrows, both before and after the time of Pliny, 
but it rather completed the ruin than began it. The fate of 
the Archbishop of Mayence is narrated by some sensational 
writers, who describe him as dragged from his tower into 
the middle of the Rhine, and drowned by a horde of rats, 
which did not retreat until they had destroyed the name 
and image of this impious man from the tapestry by means 
of their teeth ! 

Notwithstanding some evidences of the rapacity of the 
rat and its taste for human flesh, examples are related of 
true attachment in these animals, not only for their own 
species but also towards man. The rat is not insensible 
to good treatment, but attaches himself to persons who feed 
and pet him. Prisoners especially have borne witness to 
this fact. Rats are also clever and intelligent workmen ; 
they construct their dwellings with skill; the smallest are 
inhabited by one family only, while the larger ones contain 
several. Their sagacity is especially displayed in the choice 
of the place where they take up their abode. They build 



2IO THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

their houses in marshes, or by the sides of lakes and 
rivers, which have a wide reach, and of which the bed is 
shallow and the water sluggish. They choose the most 
elevated part of these lands for their habitations, so that the 
rising waters may not annoy them ; if their dwelling is too 
low, they raise it ; they also arrange it in gradations, to 
enable them to mount from story to story, as the water 
rises. When this dwelling is intended for seven or eight 
rats, it is generally about two feet square, and is made 
larger in proportion to the number it has to contain ; it 
has also as many apartments as there are families. All these 
arrangements show marks of intelligence ; but there are 
yet others. 

It is well known how cleverly rats can swim. They cross 
rivers to procure food from houses and gardens, and generally 
make the passage at break of day, for fear of being detected. 
The following incident proves the cunning of this animal. 
A number of rats had taken up their abode near a dog- 
kennel, in which was lodged a great many pointers. The 
food of the latter was put into narrow troughs, and the rats 
were accustomed to come and partake of the dinner with 
the dogs, which, trained for higher game, despised these 
little mean gnawers. The latter, seeing no danger, came in 
such numbers that they devoured the daily food of the dogs, 
and the master of the kennel resolved to destroy these 
marauders. With this intention he made a hole in the wall, 
at the end of each trough, and placed in the openings the 
muzzle of a loaded gun, so as to destroy the rats at one 
blow. At the usual feeding-hour he stationed a servant at 
each gun ready to fire. Having securely locked up the 
dogs, he gave the signal for putting the food into the troughs, 
and retired to the kennel, intending to wait until the rats 



RATS. 



211 



were so much occupied in the trough that they; might all be 
killed by a single discharge. He waited patiently for a long 
time, but not a single rat appeared. Having allowed the 
food to remain for about 
an hour without seeing 
any rats, he released the 
dogs, who immediately 
rushed at their dinner. 
They had scarcely com- 
menced their repast when 
the rats showed them- 
selves, and, as if they 
knew they were being 
guarded by the dogs, 
kept their accustomed 
place in the trough. 
They had never before 
dined with so good an 
appetite. The intelli- 
gence of the rat is such, 
that if it has once es- 
caped from a trap, it is 
seldom caught again. 
Many other examples 
might be given to prove 
the extent of their 

sagacity. Dr. Franklin tells us, that when rats gain admit- 
tance into a vessel all goes well with them so long as the 
cargo is on board and they can procure plenty of water, 
which is most necessary to them ; but if it be too well 
guarded for them to obtain it easily, they have recourse to 
very extraordinary devices in order to procure some. During 

o 2 




Rats attacking the Spirit Casks. 



212 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

a very rainy night they come on deck to drink ; then they 
climb the rigging to collect the water which they find in the 
folds of the sails. If they are reduced to great extremity, 
they attack the spirit casks, and drink so much that they are 
unable to regain their holes. Land rats gnaw even the 
metal pipes which, in public-houses, conduct the alcoholic 
liquors from the cask to the counter. All the race have 
very finely-organised ears, to catch the sound of flowing 
liquids. No doubt, the difficulty they find in procuring 
water has, in several cases, induced them to leave the vessel 
as soon as it touches the land. 

Examples of the sagacity of rats are too numerous to 
mention. The ingenious devices by which they often secure 
coveted food have every mark of reasoning. They have often 
found eggs stored up by careful housewives in a dry loft at 
the top of a house, and have actually contrived to carry the 
eggs down whole flights of stairs to their holes in a deep 
cellar. This feat has been watched by angry householders 
anxious to counteract the stratagems of the wily plunderers. 
According to the statements of these observers, the rats ap- 
pear to have skilfully combined to aid each other in lower- 
ing the eggs, one by one, down every separate stair. Then- 
mouths and fore-paws were the principal means employed in 
the operation. Two rats have even been watched as they 
were conveying an egg upstairs ; in which bit of engineering 
one animal pushed or raised up the egg, and the other 
received it. On another occasion the rats formed a line, 
passing the egg along from one to the other. When a 
number of men form a line to hand buckets of water rapidly 
along, we call the act a rational proceeding : why should not 
a like combination be deemed a sign of intelligence in these 
animals? Rats have also been detected in the act of ex- 



RATS. 213 

tracting salad oil from the long and narrow necks of Florence 
flasks. One of the animals wrenched out the cork • then 
the same, or a companion, dipped his long tail into the 
flask; the others instantly licked the delicious oil off the 
soaked tail, and by repeated dippings of this kind the flask 
was soon almost emptied. Mr. Buckland mentions' a case 
in which the rats combined to rob an old lady of her wine. 
The cask was placed in a cellar, and before many nights 
had passed the most extraordinary and even unearthly 
sounds were heard in the lower parts of the house. What 
could be the matter ? Ghosts were suggested, as the sim- 
plest solution of the difficulty ; but ghosts had never intruded 
before, and the lady had done nothing to attract such visitors. 
She was, however, determined to resist such an invasion on 
her domestic peace, and called in not spiritual but earthly 
forces, in the shape of her labourers, servants, and a fierce 
dog. The rustic troops being armed with hay-forks, the 
housemaid carrying a large hand-bell, and the bold mistress 
herself having two huge loaded pistols on a table before her, 
the whole party awaited the attack of the supernatural hosts. 
Strange as it may appear, no spirits came, though such beings 
are supposed to hold carnal weapons in the most supreme 
contempt. However, if the unwelcome visitants did really 
return, they conducted themselves in a quiet and respectable 
manner, the horrid sounds being heard no more. The day 
at length arrived when some of the wine was wanted for a 
festive gathering; the cask was visited, and a moment's 
glance showed a burglary of the most shameful kind. The 
bung had been gnawed through, and then, when the wine 
had sunk down to that level, the wood below was bored 
through. • There was no mistaking the teeth marks; no 
human tool would have left such peculiar cuttings on the 



214 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

perforated staves. Not a quart of the wine remained, and it 
was evident that the rats had actually got into the cask and 
sipped the liquid to almost the last drop. The outcries had 
doubtless been caused by the swarms engaged in piercing 
the cask ; afterwards their enjoyment of such a rare treat 
kept the felonious epicures quiet enough. Much wine was 
wasted by running out of the holes ; but this was probably 
licked up from the cellar-floor by the eager topers. The 
cask itself was immediately raised to the highest honours, 
being secured by Mr. Buckland and placed in his museum 
as a memorial, not only of rat ingenuity in combining 
for a common end, but of the wine-bibbing tastes of the 
animals. 

Rats will also combine to attack their foes, and have 
been known to drive off even dogs when these were wanting 
in thorough-bred courage. The rats in the well-known fable 
were not able to procure one of their number to volunteer 
in "belling the cat;" but Mr. Rodwell mentions a case in 
which a fine cat was almost torn to pieces and killed by a 
concerted attack of these animals. Puss had long been 
famous as a rat-killer, but one night a very army of the foe 
must have suddenly sprung upon Grimalkin, and over- 
powered the hero. 

Few would suppose the rat capable of being tamed, but 
some cases of this kind have occurred. These educated rats 
have followed their keepers about with all the fidelity of a 
spaniel. To train these animals so as to act in a theatre is, 
perhaps, not more wonderful than to teach fleas to perform 
the military drill, but it supplies one more proof of intelli- 
gence in such creatures. The rats in question displayed 
their talents before a Belgian audience, and were dressed 
up in miniature human clothing, in which they acted the 



RATS. 215 

parts of fine ladies and gentlemen. The whole perform- 
ance was appropriately concluded by the hanging of a cat 
in effigy, round which the rats- wheeled in a grand triumphal 
march ! 

The patience of the rat-destroyer is often severely tested 
by the caution of the animals. To no purpose is the trap 
set, in vain the poison is laid, if a human ungloved hand has 
touched either. The rat detects, by his acute sense of smell, 
the odour of the fingers, and the trap should, therefore, be 
touched with a perfumed glove or cloth. The poisoned food 
is placed on spots to which the rats are gradually enticed by 
the presence of rags dipped in oil of rhodium or in pre- 
parations of musk, carraway, or aniseed. When they have 
become used to these places, and fed on bits of refuse meat, 
tallow, &c, they will collect in great numbers, and, losing 
all fear, will then eat the poisoned food. Nothing but 
patience and tempting food, carefully left for a time, will 
succeed in lulling their marvellous suspicions. 

The belief that these animals are sometimes employed 
as agents of Divine justice has given rise to a Polish legend, 
in which it is said that King Popiel poisoned his uncles, 
and threw their dead bodies into a lake. These corpses 
attracted an enormous number of rats, which afterwards 
attacked the king, his wife, and children. Nothing could 
stop their desperate fury; the servants vainly endeavoured 
to destroy them with fire and weapons. At last all the 
king's family sought refuge in a strong hold; but the rats 
pursued them even there, and, in the end, killed the king 
and all belonging to him, in the Castle of Kruszwic. 

Mice must not be entirely passed over, although their 
ingenuity be not quite so astonishing as that of the rat. 
Mrs. Lee gives an account of the persevering skill with 



2l6 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

which a colony of mice attempted to get at some dainty 
food placed under a heavy metal dish cover. Unable to get 
to the top, from the smoothness of the surface, they actually 
formed a living ladder, some mounting on the shoulders of 
others. When this was accomplished nothing was gained, 
and the little creatures then tried to insert their small legs 
under the edge of the cover in order to raise it a little, but 
the weight was too great, and they only got several ugly 
pinches for their pains. The plan was, however, evidently 
dictated by intelligence. Mr. Jesse records an attempt suc- 
cessfully made by a mouse to reach the top of a honey pot. 
The closet containing the prize had some loose mortar and 
plaster lying in a corner, and of this the clever mouse used to 
construct a mound against the smooth side of the jar. This 
enabled the cunning workman to mount to the top of the 
vessel and attack the honey. But the getting out of the pot 
seems to have been nearly as difficult as getting in, and the 
mouse therefore made in the inside an inclined plane of 
the mortar, up which it could easily run when its appetite 
was satisfied. What but intelligence could have suggested 
this effective mode of accomplishing the object ? The 
double-inclined plane showed design on its face. 

A story had been told by an Icelandic naturalist of the 
amazing sagacity shown by mice in crossing rivers when 
searching for food. The statement was that eight or ten of 
these mice would collect a piece of thin turf or dry cow- 
dung, then, dragging it to the edge of a stream, all get upon 
the novel raft, sitting with their heads turned to the centre 
and their tails in the water, and thus, using their tails both 
for oars and rudder, get across. The story sounded to 
some very much like an invention, others were disposed 
to belief, and Pennant, in his great work, "The Arctic 



RATS. 217 

Zoology," took the latter side. The unbelievers received 
great support, on the other hand, from Dr. Hooker's " Tour 
in Iceland," in which the migrating skill of the mice was 
denied. But surely, thought Dr. Henderson, a simple 
question of fact can be answered in some distinct manner. 
He made close inquiries among intelligent Icelanders 
respecting mice navigators, and gives the names of educated 
residents who had themselves seen the animals in the very 
act of making their singular voyages. If these facts be 
admitted, the inevitable conclusion must be that these Ice- 
landic mice act, in some cases at least, on rational prin- 
ciples. 

Our pretty little harvest mouse, the smallest of English 
quadrupeds, shows no small ingenuity in suspending its 
nest to corn stalks or thistle stems. Let any one inspect 
one of these compactly platted little nests. Mark the first- 
rate style in which the small opening is formed, and note 
the endurance of the structure, which may be rolled to and 
fro like a ball without losing the "cricket ball" shape. The 
examiner cannot fail to be struck with the skill shown in the 
construction of the mouse cradle, which often gives shelter 
to seven or eight young. Some of the nests lose their 
shape by handling, but these are generally formed of soft 
grass, cut into short pieces by the maker's teeth, and 
admirably woven together. 

The extraordinary living bridges formed by the lemmings 
of Norway, in order to cross rivers, demands a moment's 
attention. The reader is, doubtless, aware that these rat-like 
animals sometimes emigrate from their homes in the Nor- 
wegian mountains in such countless myriads as to lay the 
whole country waste through which they pass. Sometimes 
the vast army come to a river. There is no time for pausing ; 



2l8 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

the multitude behind force the van to advance. What is 
done must be done quickly, and this is the scheme adopted 
by these pontoon makers. A column of lemmings manage 
to swim across the river, the rear ranks resting their heads 
on the hinder parts of those in front. The foremost rank 
of the column grips the earth or plants on the opposite 
bank, and thus secures a fixed point of support for the 
bridge. No sooner is the lemming column firmly fixed at 
the front and rear, than the whole army rushes hastily across 
on the backs of their companions, which thus form an 
extemporised floating bridge. As these operations have 
been recorded by eye-witnesses, we must receive the. state- 
ment as furnishing another argument in favour of the 
intelligence of the lower animals. 

If the accounts given of the marmots are but partially 
true, then these " Alpine mice" must also be classed amongst 
the intelligent rodents. Animals which form snug winter 
homes in the earth, passing the cold season in societies of 
about a dozen each, which actually " make hay" for them- 
selves, their mouths being scythes and their paws the 
turning machines, must take rank among " the wise crea- 
tures" of the earth. 

The jerboas, or jumping mice of Egypt and Asia, are not 
only famous for their wonderful leaps of fifteen feet at a jump ; 
they are remarkable also for the mode in which they lay up 
stores against a time of want, forming complete magazines 
of food. The particular point to be borne in mind is, that 
the jerboas do not use the stores thus laid up as mere 
instinct or appetite might direct : prudence and forethought 
seem to be exercised. The food deposited in the granaries is 
never touched while any supplies can be procured from the 
fields. When these sources fail, then the closed magazines 



RATS. 2 1 9 

are opened. Sometimes the natives discover the stores and 
cany off all the grain, leaving the jerboas to contend with 
hunger or to perish. 

We thus see that in rats, mice, lemmings, marmots, and 
jerboas, gleams of intelligence appear, proving that some- 
thing more than instinct is granted to these creatures. They 
clearly are able to adapt means to ends, and devise schemes 
suited to emergencies. 



HARES AND RABBITS. 

Nature has bestowed upon the hare less sense than 
many other animals, but, when pursued, it has recourse 
to a degree of cunning capable of exciting the envy of the 
fox. Huntsmen tell many well-attested stories which show 
that even hares can vary their actions when circumstances 
require. Some have been known to stop in a brownish- 
tinted soil, and lie down between two clods which happened 
to be nearly of the same colour as themselves. One has 
been seen to swim into a bed of reeds in the midst of a 
large body of water, and, having thrown out the dogs, to 
have waited quietly till the pack went by. Hunted hares 
will sometimes dash amongst a flock of sheep, and lie down, 
with the evident object of thus concealing themselves. The 
doubles of the hare are often of the most extraordinary kind. 
The animals will jump on to a wall, run along the top, and 
even try to creep into dense masses of ivy growing there. 
They will run in and out of a thicket several times, as if 
they knew that such a manoeuvre must puzzle the harriers. 
Wide rivers will not deter these usually timid creatures when 
danger presses. Mr. Yarrell mentions one case of a hare 
swimming above a mile across a tidal harbour. But the 
time when the animal took the water indicated something 
like powers of reflection. The hare waited on the shore 
while the tide was running in, and, just as high-water was 
reached, took its swim. The quadruped navigator was 



HARES AND RABBITS. 



221 



evidently aware that if the journey were attempted during 
the set of the current, the motion of the flow or the ebb 
tide would carry it past the exact point of land on which it 
wished to land. The poet Cowper's tame hares will occur 




The Hare running in a Straight Line. The Rabbit Doubling Back. 



to many readers as instances of the capacity of these usually 
wild animals for some degree of domestication. But surely 
this teachableness implies the possession of intelligence. 

The rabbit, though much weaker than the hare, possesses 
much more intelligence. A dog is very likely to take a hare 



22 2 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

in coursing, but a good rabbit sometimes can tire out the 
best of dogs. The rabbit digs out his hole, chooses a mate, 
and lives in society. He does not confine his interest to his 
own family, but extends it to all the underground republic, 
and to those creatures of his kind which share with him the 
produce of the neighbourhood. When the rabbits leave their 
burrow to feed, those which by experience are accustomed to 
note alarms always divide their attention between their meal 
and any peril likely to surprise them. If they think any 
danger threatens, they give the alarm by striking the earth 
with their hind-feet, and all the neighbouring burrows im- 
mediately resound with these repeated strokes. The whole 
tribe generally hastens to re-enter, but if there are any 
younger and more imprudent rabbits, which do not heed 
the first warnings, the old ones still continue striking, and 
risking their own lives for the public safety. 

George Leroy remarks that the propensity of rabbits 
for burrowing is not purely mechanical, since those that 
have been a long time domesticated do not attempt such 
works. They only think of doing so when the necessity of 
protecting their weakness from cold and danger has forced 
them to provide this shelter. " It is not, then, always from 
a superior instinct," adds this clever observer, " that some 
species do things which indicate more sagacity than is 
shown by others. It seems certain that if cold or other 
inconveniences had not made the rabbit suffer more than 
the hare, this animal would not take the trouble to burrow 
a hole. People attribute that to its industry which is really 
owing to its weakness." 

To work in concert for the purpose of making a 
dwelling and lodging together is a new order of things 
for beings formerly wandering without a dwelling. " It is 



HARES AND RABBITS. 223 

impossible," says George Leroy, " that property should not 
stimulate labour, and establish connections of neighbour- 
hood. The idea of property is evident in rabbits. The 
same families occupy the same holes without changing 
them, and the dwelling increases according as the family 
augments. They take a lively and courageous interest in 
all animals of their species." 



THE BEAVER. 

The beaver is the animal whose instinct and intelligence 
have been the most discussed. " It is," says M. Flourens, 
"a mammiferous animal of the order rodentia, the order 
which has the least intelligence. But it has a marvellous 
instinct for constructing a hut, for building it in the water, 
for making causeways, and forming dykes, and all this 
with an industry which seems to be the effect of a 
very high intelligence in this animal. But are its works 
guided by intelligence? The essential point," adds M. 
Flourens, "is to prove that they are not so guided, and 
this is what F. Cuvier has done. He took some very 
young beavers, brought them up far from their parents, 
which, consequently, could not teach anything to them. 
These isolated, solitary beavers had been placed in a 
cage, so that they should not want to build; yet these 
beavers built, urged on by a blind, mechanical force, in one 
word, by a pure instinct. This admirable industry which 
the beaver displays in building its hut, is employed by it 
for that purpose only." In another place M. Flourens 
speaks again of the instinct which springs from a natural 
impulse, and he adds, that the beaver which F. Cuvier 
studied was taken on the banks of the Rhone, was arti- 
ficially suckled, and could not, therefore, have learned 
anything from its parents. It was constantly fed with 
branches of a willow, of which it ate the bark ; and 



THE BEAVER. 225 

after having taken all the bark off the branches, it cut 
them into pieces, and piled them up in a corner of 
the cage : it was collecting materials for building. They 
now furnished it with earth, straw, and branches of 
trees, and saw it form little masses of earth with its fore 
feet, then push them in front with the chin, move them 
away with its mouth, place them one on the other, and 
press them hard with its tail, till the result was one solid 
mass. "But," says M. Flourens, "two facts must be 
noted here : one, that this animal did not owe anything 
to its own race, the first source, according to Buffon, of 
the industry of the beavers ; the other is, that this animal 
works without an end, mechanically, forced by a blind 
impulse. No good could result from the trouble which 
it gave itself." It needed no house. Buffon will have it 
that solitary beavers do not know how to undertake or con- 
struct anything. Cuvier's beaver undertook, constructed, 
and built, but it was solitary. 

" If we believe Buffon," adds the learned academician, 
" the beavers are perhaps the only examples which exist 
of this species of intelligence in brutes, which, although 
infinitely inferior to that of man, nevertheless supposes 
common projects and views." "The society of beavers," 
he says, "not being a forced union, must be a species 
of choice, and supposes at least a general agreement and 
common objects, and also a gleam of intelligence in the 
beaver." To this M. Flourens answers, that Buffon takes 
the result of instinct for the result of intelligence. Buffon 
and M. Flourens are both right, for an animal may be 
forced, by its nature, to do something spontaneously, and 
this act, which originally was only instinctive, may after- 
wards be executed with intelligence. Is not this what we 

P 



226 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



frequently see among men ? A child feels itself drawn to 
some art; first, it exercises it instinctively and mechanically; 
later, it works with intelligence. A beaver lived, some years 

ago, in the Museum 
of Natural History at 
Paris. They threw to 
him, in his cage, vege- 
tables, fruits, and also 
branches to amuse him. 
During the course of a 
hard winter, the animal 
had only a little litter 
to protect it from the 
cold, and the door of 
its cage shut badly. 
One night it was snow- 
ing large flakes, and the 
snow, driven by the 
wind, accumulated in 
a corner of the cage. 
It was necessary to in- 
vent a plan for protect- 
ing itself from this new 
inconvenience. The 
only materials which 
the poor beaver found 
were branches of trees, which had been given to exercise its 
faculty of gnawing. It now interlaced the branches in the 
bars of its cage, just as a basket-maker would have done. 
Before day came the beaver used up the litter, some carrots 
and apples, and all it had at hand, fashioning the materials 
with its teeth, and appropriating them to the vacant spaces, 




Beaver building a Wall. 



THE BEAVER. 22 7 

with the idea of filling them up. This protection from the 
cold air not seeming sufficient, it covered all with snow, 
which froze in the night, and by the next morning it was 
found to have built a wall, occupying the two tiers of the 
door. This barricade made against the cold shows an 
instinct for construction, and also denotes reflection and 
intelligence. What other name, as Dr. Franklin has very 
well said, can we give to a series of acts having for their 
object the application of instinct to circumstances which 
the animal had not foreseen ? 

We could mention many other facts to prove that 
instinct may be the first impulse to an act, which later 
becomes an intelligent work. M. Flourens, perhaps, only 
insisted that the beaver had no intelligence because this 
animal has not any cerebral circumvolutions ! 

Another fact will prove the intelligence of beavers. 
We received it from M. Broca. Wherever beavers find 
favourable conditions, they live in society, they build 
villages, where each family has its hut; an admirable 
construction, in which the art of the carpenter is allied 
to that of the mason. The choice of place, the prepara- 
tion of materials, the disposition of the causeway, the 
building of the huts, are all witnesses to a really remarkable 
intelligence. We are told, however, that the beaver is not 
the inventor of all these things ; that nature having created 
it sociable, an engineer, and a mason, it blindly obeys the 
will of nature ; that it has always thus lived, and cannot live 
otherwise. This opinion might have been supported three 
or four centuries ago. It cannot be supported to-day, as the 
beavers of some regions have adopted a mode of life totally 
different. 

Societies of beavers were found in France till the end of 

P 2 



2 28 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

the Middle Ages, in spite of the attacks of men. In 1801 
there was a colony on the Elbe, near Kahnert ; another in 
1830, on the Nuthe, an affluent of the Elbe. As soon as 
man brought to perfection his arms and weapons of the 
chase, the beavers redoubled their prudence, cunning, and 
sagacity, but they were forced at last to yield before fire- 
arms. Social life was attended with too great dangers ; the 
sweets of association therefore had to be renounced. 
Families dispersed, and not finding security in their huts, 
which attracted the attention of man, the beavers sought 
refuge in the crevices of cliffs which lined the banks of 
streams. 

Beavers inhabited the Vosges till near the end of the 
17 th century, and still exist in the mountainous districts 
of Dauphine, and on the banks of the Rhone. They 
excavate habitations in the dykes of the river, and there 
take refuge, where man cannot pursue them without de- 
stroying his own works. 

Thus the beaver did not only renounce social life, but 
also adopted manners and habitations quite new, and created 
an industry which was unknown to it, when at liberty to dis- 
play its true nature. The mason became a miner ; it first 
constructed, next excavated, contrary to man's custom, who 
first hid himself in caves, and later, having nothing to fear 
from savage beasts, constructed dwellings in the broad 
daylight. 

It must, therefore, be confessed that if the primitive 
beavers, in adopting social life and building villages, were 
only obeying blind instinct, the beavers on the banks of 
the Rhone could not have adopted the means of now living 
contrary to what is called nature, except by their intelligence 
adapting itself to new requirements. 



THE RUMINANTS. 

Ruminants are animals like the ox and the cow, which 
have the habit of " chewing the cud." 

According to their cerebral organisation these mammalia 
are superior to the rodents. They are the first animals in 
which the brain hemispheres have circumvolutions, two 
lobes covering the two pyramids and the two "olivary" 
bodies.* We know that the rodent does not often dis- 
tinguish the man who takes care of it from any other man ; 
the ruminant knows its master, though a change of the coat 
often suffices, says M. Flourens, to prevent recognition. 

The heads of ruminants are in general long; all have 
large and well-formed eyes, but are not very intelligent 
looking. These animals are well organised for eating. 
Their stomach has too much digestive power for their brain 
to reflect much. They are thought to be of a more afFec. 
tionate character, more docile than the carnivora ; but 
observation shows that most adult ruminants, especially the 
males, are rough and wild, little influenced by kindness, 
scarcely recognising him who feeds them, not attaching 
themselves to him, and always ready to strike the moment 
he ceases to intimidate them. 

Ruminants, when they gain strength, are really more 
unruly than the carnivora — that is, their intelligence is 
much lower and much more limited. 

* Parts of the inner brain, so named 



230 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

We do not communicate our intelligence to animals, we 
only make them develope their own, and apply it to a greater 
number of objects. Many among them have been domesti- 
cated, and have rendered us great services; but in becoming 
slaves, have they not become more intelligent? Certain 
authors say that the ruminants have lost something of their 
natural faculties. The affection for the race is very weak, 
and does not last long ; the females only show some 
solicitude for their little ones. Wild beasts, of which they 
are the principal food, and hunters, who pursue them with- 
out ceasing, would have made them disappear from the 
greater part of the earth if they had not been protected by 
acuteness of hearing and rapidity of flight. 

It is remarked that nearly all animals living on grass 
pass much of their life in a state which approaches habitual 
torpor. The life of carnivorous animals is much more 
busy and active, but these and the ruminants find happi- 
ness in the exercise of their natural faculties, and there 
are very few species of the latter which feel any wants 
independent of their simple appetites. This disposition for 
repose is perhaps what hinders, says G. Leroy, the species 
from perfecting themselves as much as their organisation 
would permit. Yet there are certain ruminants which 
display a real intelligence. We will first of all name the 
following. 



THE CAMEL— THE LLAMA. 

The camel is said to be the first of all ruminants in intelli- 
gence. This animal is very docile ; it is taught while young 
to bend down and to kneel when about to be loaded. As 



The Camel about to be Loaded. 

soon almost as it is born the keepers bend its four legs under 
the stomach, and cover the animal with a carpet, on the 
borders of which they place stones, so that it cannot get up. 
The " breaking in " generally takes place when the camel is 
four years old. One of the fore legs is raised and tied up ; 



232 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

the animal then gently falls upon its knee, and in a short 
time learns to do so at a word. The trainers leave it thus 
for some time without letting it suck, so that it early acquires 
the custom of rarely drinking. The owners do not allow 
their camels to carry burdens before the age of three or 
four years. And, when the beasts feel they are sufficiently 
loaded, you must not, says Valmont de Bomare, think of 
loading them any more, or they are discouraged, shaking 
the head, and starting up. If they are overladen, they set 
up a lamentable cry. The camel has one great fault ; it is 
spiteful, and becomes dangerous to those who drive it too 
roughly; it long remembers any ill-treatment, and when it 
can catch its enemy, takes him up with its teeth, lets him 
fall down on the earth, and stamps on him till he is crushed. 
The expression "camel's temper" denotes, in the East, an 
unforgiving man. This bad humour is but a temporary 
excitement, and the camel, after all, is an excellent animal, 
which has not, as has been said, any antipathy to the 
donkey, the horse, and the mule. Whenever it finds itself 
in their company the camel is, on the contrary, very good 
society. This beast has a singular power for detecting the 
position of pools of water. A camel has rushed headlong 
to the hidden waters when neither men nor asses were aware 
of the presence of the element. 

The llama, which comes very near the camel in its 
organisation, is, like it, docile and intelligent. The gait of 
these animals, and their long, narrow, pointed, and mov- 
able ears, show great vivacity. Their paces, without being 
light, are free and sure ; they are timid without being 
afraid ; they readily place confidence in those that take 
care of them, and even seem susceptible of a deep affec- 
tion. As the padded foot of the camels would have been 



THE CAMEL THE LLAMA. 233 

a hindrance to the llamas in climing rocky steeps, its place 
is supplied in the latter animals by strong hooked claws, 
with a separate cushion behind each. This gives great 
freedom to the foot in combination with a firm grasp of 
the ground. 



OXEN. 

It is said of a slow, heavy, and narrow mind that it is dull 
as an ox. Certainly this mammal has not as much intelli- 
gence as the ant or the spider ; which proves that a large 
head, and a brain provided with circumvolutions, will not 
give a mind. We have already said, and we must repeat, 
that the stomach often stupefies intelligence. Great eaters 
generally finish by heaviness of mind. He who is all for 
eating is little for thought. It must not be supposed, how- 
ever, that the ox is a fool, with whom you may do as you 
please. In order to tame and subjugate it, you must take 
the animal at the age of two and a half or three years ; if 
you wait longer, it often becomes untameable. Patience, 
gentleness, and caresses have a good effect on him, while 
bad treatment disheartens him and paralyses the little intel- 
ligence he possesses. When well brought up ; he is gentle, 
patient, and hard-working; and, without having great in- 
telligence, draws his plough calmly and courageously. The 
bull, on the contrary, will fight most bravely for the herd, 
and walk proudly at the head, announcing himself by a 
grave lowing, as you may hear in the first days of spring, 
when these animals come to take possession of the pas- 
turage. If there are two herds in a field, the two bulls will 
detach themselves from them, and advance towards each 
other, animated by a feeling of jealousy; the lowing is the 
signal for action. Then the two rivals fall on each other 
with impetuosity, and butt with fury. The first shock is 



OXEN. 



235 



followed by a second, then by a third ; they fight with 
frenzy, and do not cease the combat till they are separated, 
or till the weakest is constrained to yield. 

In the ruminants, it is observed that the difference of 
character between the male and female is more marked than 
in any other class of animals. It would be difficult to find 




^: 



The Two Rivals. 



characters more different than the bull and the cow, the he- 
goat and the she-goat, the ram and the sheep, the hart and 
the hind. 

The fierce energy and intelligence of the bovine race 
can be but feebly marked in the domesticated species. A 
^rize " Devon," or show " Hereford," is too much cared for 



236 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

by man to allow of any quality to be developed except the 
capacity for getting sleek and fat. The hunter who has met 
the charge of the wild bison of the American prairies, or 
fought with the fierce African buffalo, can alone estimate 
fully the natural resources of the animals. The small but 
fiery eye, the long shaggy hair, and the vindictive charge of 
a wounded bison, make the boldest man feel that such a 
creature cannot be called " stupid." No little skill is neces- 
sary to surprise these watchful animals, which scan every 
far-off movement, and sniff the wind with suspicion. The 
bravest bull-dogs soon learn, when they close with a bison, 
the effective fury of its peculiar mode of attack. This is 
made by striking at the dog with their fore-feet, one blow of 
which will stamp the assailant into the dust. A pack of 
famished wolves will hesitate before charging the disciplined 
array of a bison army. All the young and weak animals 
stand in the centre, the rest form an impenetrable circle of 
horns, against which even the savage prairie wolves will 
seldom dash. Those who have seen the wild oxen preserved 
in Chillingham Park, Northumberland, will notice in their 
mode of advance to the attack a concerted combination of 
movement. 

"As stupid as an ox" may be current now, but there 
was a time when the animal was treated as a god, or made 
the symbol of Divine attributes. The Egyptians found a 
home for their great divinity Osiris in the body of an ox, and 
Nineveh even joined the human head to the bovine body. 
The winged and human-headed bulls in the British Museum 
show the reverence paid in remote ages to this animal. The 
strange mythology of India has made the bull the sacred 
animal of Siva, and millions of Hindoos at this day revere 
the creature as the representative of Deity. 



OXEN. 237 

A few words on the Cow are necessary, not because she 
is very intelligent, but because she has such a good heart ! 
The cow shows that she hears her name, and understands 
very well the words which express an order or a prohibition. 
She accustoms herself to the persons who take care of her ; 
and if a strange hand tries to milk her, she withholds her 
milk. 

Cows appear very tender in the bringing-up of their 
calves ; they complain in their own way, and low when they 
hear the voice of the young. " They have been seen," says 
Fee, "hurrying towards the habitation and trying to get 
in, deceived by the cries of children they have heard." If 
the persons charged with distributing the fodder pass by 
without giving them some, they make a plaintive lowing. 
They have a sound for joy as well as grief. 

Let us notice, lastly, a spirit of subordination very re- 
markable in cows. When the herds repair to the Alps, to 
pass the summer season there, you may see the leading 
cow walking proudly at the head of her companions. This 
cow preserves her authority in the pasture-grounds, and 
returns in triumph to the valley, always at the head of her 
companions. 

This animal has, on several occasions, given proof of a 
higher intelligence than most persons would expect to find 
in her. Memory is, undoubtedly, an intellectual power, and 
this some cows have certainly possessed. Mr. Jesse states 
that a cow was taken away from her calf, which was left at 
Bushey Park, the mother being hurried off to Smithfield. 
The next morning the cow duly presented herself at the gate 
of the yard in which the calf had been kept. Of course 
there was great surprise and some anger as the question was 
asked, "Who brought the cow back?" The inquiry might 



238 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

have been repeated until now, and no answer have been 
obtained. That cow wanted no guide. She had by some 
means broken out of her London home, and had passed 
through all the streets to the suburbs without being stopped 
by the police, who naturally fancied the drover must be close 
at hand. Once out of the streets, the route was plain enough 
to such a sagacious animal, and the twelve miles were soon 
traversed. Affection for the calf may have been the impulse 
which drove the cow back, but she must also have had a 
strong recollection of all the streets and turnings through 
which she had passed from Bushey to Smithfield. The fol- 
lowing instance shows a still more retentive memory. A cow 
had been sent away from her own pastures to a place about 
twenty miles off, in the spring. As the feed was good, she 
remained quietly in her new home through the summer ; but 
as winter drew on the quality of the grass changed for the 
worse. The cow resented this, and, escaping from the pas- 
ture, presented herself at the old home, with sundry eager 
and indignant lowings. In this case the animal's memory 
must have retained the chief landmarks of the journey for 
about half a year. A species of the zebu, or hump-backed 
cow of Africa, is said to be trained by the Hottentot shep- 
herds to guard large flocks of sheep. She keeps them 
together with all the activity of a Scotch colley, and repels 
every enemy with unflinching courage. These facts show 
that the cow is capable of receiving a higher education than 
she usually obtains. 



THE STAG. 

ITS REFLECTIONS AND ITS DEVICES. 

The study of this timid animal furnishes us with a new 
proof of the transformation of instinct into intelligence. 
When young, it is frightened at the barking of dogs, and 
flies instinctively; when old, its flight is the result of 
reflection. However, the stag is one of those animals 
whose constitution, inclinations, and manner of nourish- 
ment do not lead to much intelligence. It has no difficulty 
to conquer in getting food. If it suffer from scarcity, 
it has no other resource than to change its place, and 
cannot help itself by any kind of industry. Thus its 
memory is only charged with a small number of facts. 
The stag soon learns and knows where it will find catkins 
and tender shoots in the beginning of spring, fresh and 
juicy grass during the summer, berries at the end of that 
season, and briars or heather-tops when the winter has 
dried the herbage and covered the grass with snow. 
The repetition of such simple actions does not give much 
instruction. To go out of the retreat in the evening to 
feed, to re-enter at the dawn of day and go to rest ; to 
rise sometimes towards mid-day to eat, or, if it be very 
hot, to drink at some pool, this is the history of a stag's 
day, and such it would be all his life if the excitements 
of spring and the snares of men did not make some 
variety. However, these actions, simple as they are, 



24O THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

show in the stag experience, reflection, and choice, for it 
is necessary that he change his pasture-ground and places 
of retreat according to the seasons. In the spring and in 
the beginning of summer, the necessity of renewing his 
horns and procuring fresh and tender herbage, obliges 
him to seek lonely thickets, where he may hope for tran- 
quillity. In winter, the rigour of the cold teaches him 
to inhabit woods and the depths of forests bordering on 
pasture-grounds. But this choice of retreat only supposes 
one reflection drawn from a single observation. When he 
has been several times disturbed in his asylum, he puts 
into action an art which can only be the fruit of finer 
and more complicated reflections. He often changes his 
coppice with the direction of the wind, that it may bring the 
smell and sound of anything which may threaten him from 
outside. Often, instead of entering in confidence and 
going straight to rest, he makes pretences of entering his 
lair; he goes into the wood, comes out, passes and re-passes 
on his tracks several times. Without having anything 
really to disturb him, he employs the same devices as he 
would if hiding himself from the dogs were he hunted by 
them. This caution supposes facts already known, and a 
series of ideas and presumptions which are the conse- 
quences of these facts, for such proceedings must neces- 
sarily be the product of reasonings like these which follow : 
■ — " A dog, led by a man, has several times forced me to 
flee, and has followed me a long time by my tracks. My 
tracks, then, are known to him. What has happened many 
times may happen again to-day; so to-day I must take 
precautions against what has already happened. Without 
knowing what is done to mark my track and follow it, I 
presume that, by means of a false march, I could mislead 



THE STAG 241 

my pursuers ; so I must go and return on my tracks, to 
deprive them of their knowledge and ensure my quiet." 
"Whoever," says George Leroy, "will reflect on the 
necessity of a motive to produce such a complicated 
determination, will see that this cannot be the result of 
what is called instinct ; it is, in fact, reasoning and intelli- 
gence." 

To be afraid of the noise of dogs, and to escape from 
their pursuit, is, in a timid animal, the pure effect of 
instinct ; but to direct its flight according to known facts, 
and to reason on them, is the effect of an intelligent 
principle, which cannot be despised in the stag. When 
the creature is without experience, its flight is simple and 
without method. As he only knows the places near to that 
where he was born, he returns there often, and only quits 
them with regret and at the last extremity. But when the 
repeated necessity of hiding from pursuit has obliged the 
stag to reflect on the manner in which it has been pursued, 
then the animal forms a system of defence, and uses all 
varieties of designs and tricks to baffle the foe. Perceiving 
that in the thickets the contact of his body leaves a strong 
scent on the trees, which the dogs can follow with ardour 
and without interruption, the stag leaves these thickets, and 
goes into the woods or by the side of the road. Thus he 
prolongs his flight, changes his country, and gets far away. 
But, though he no longer hears the dogs, he knows they 
will soon approach ; so, instead of yielding to a dangerous 
security, he profits by this time of respite to think of 
methods for deceiving his enemies. He has remarked that 
he was betrayed by the traces of his steps, and that the 
pursuit constantly followed them. To hide his road, he 
often runs in a straight line, returns on the same track, and 





242 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

at last, springing from the ground by several consecutive 
leaps, he puts to fault the sagacity of the dogs, deceives the 
hunter's eye, and at least gains time. Sometimes he begins 
running as soon as he hears the dogs. Sometimes he begins 
by stratagems, as if he were unable to run, and then all at 
once starts away with all the speed of which he is capable. 
But if he is pressed, it often happens that he throws him- 
self on the ground, in the hope that the ardour of the dogs 
will carry them on, and that they will go beyond the track ; 
and when that happens, he turns quickly back again. 

Often he seeks other animals of his kind to lose himself 
among them. Is it a natural instinct which leads to his seek- 
ing company to keep him safe ? He has another motive ; 
his partnership does not last as long as the danger. When 
the herd which he has joined is excited enough to partake 
of the peril with him, and the ardour of the dogs is at fault, 
he leaves the exposed herd and gets away by a rapid flight. 
This trick is one of which the success is surest. We find, 
in Bude's " Treatise on Hunting," all the schemes contrived 
by the stag to save itself; how he avoids going against the 
wind, how " one sees the stag get into a herd of oxen, and 
leap on one of them, holding on by the legs and fore- 
shoulders, running a long time as if he were on horseback, 
touching the earth with only his hind feet, and thus leaving 
the dogs little scent of him." 



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SHEEP, GOATS, AND ANTELOPES. 

The phrase, "a sheepish person," is never deemed com- 
plimentary, nor is it used to denote a strong or active 
understanding. Surely, then, the animals which have fur- 
nished us with the epithet " sheepish " must be remarkable 
for stupidity. This conclusion is not unreasonable in 
persons who know little about the habits of sheep. He 
who looks at a flock pent in by hurdles in a turnip field, 
taking their food just as it is provided, and being under no 
necessity to look after their own interests or safety, may 
not unnaturally think them stupid. But, even under these 
circumstances, the watchful shepherd, if he be himself an 
intelligent man, will be very likely to dissent from the 
popular opinions about these animals. Those who have 
noted their habits in open and hilly countries, where sheep 
are left more to their own resources, see nothing dull or 
heavy about them. The remarkable timidity of sheep in 
presence of the dog has probably greatly aided the common 
notion, though this suspicious apprehensiveness of danger 
has no connection at all with stupidity. The habit arises 
from the peculiar organisation of these animals, being neces- 
• sary for their safety, and proving rather incessant watch- 
fulness than the want of intelligence. Sheep are really 
courageous when necessary ; the ewe will boldly face a dog 
in defence of her lamb, and the ram will charge the bound 
with all a warrior's fury. 



246 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

Sheep have sometimes given proof of a strong memory 
by the mode in which they have found their way back to the 
native pastures. Mr. Hancock describes the obstacles which 
an Annandale sheep overcame in her determined journey 
from Yorkshire to her former Scottish home. Another had 
been taken from Edinburgh to a place in Perthshire, having 
her lamb with her. She did not like her new home, and 
one day got off with her young one, making for the south, 
and actually reaching the former fold, with the lamb unhurt, 
after a journey of nine days. A singular fact happened 
when the watchful ewe arrived at Stirling. It was a market- 
day, and she patiently waited outside the town until the 
bustle was over, and then got safely through in the evening. 
Here was no mere instinct at work, but a faculty regulating 
the movements of the animal so as to meet a sudden emer- 
gency. Cases of a similar kind might be collected in great 
numbers, were they sought for in the proper districts by 
persevering inquirers. Probably a great number never pass 
beyond the particular localities where, after amusing the 
peasantry as a "nine days' wonder," they are gradually 
forgotten, or buried in the files of a local newspaper. Welsh 
sheep are said to have often escaped from even the neigh- 
bourhood of London, whence they have contrived to get 
back into Wales. 

Mrs. Lee mentions a case which shows not only strong 
affection in the sheep, but an intelligent appreciation of 
human power to rescue animals from difficulties. A traveller 
in the Highlands was hurrying on through a lonely district, 
when a sheep ran towards him, bleating in a singular manner. 
This unusual action made the traveller pause, upon which 
the ewe ran back a little way, then looked towards the man 
and renewed the bleating. The human friend, to whom she 



SHEEP, GOATS, AND ANTELOPES. 247 

seemed thus appealing, felt there was some meaning in the 
animal's actions, and followed her closely. The mystery was 
soon explained. Her lamb had fallen on its back between 
two huge fragments of rock, and was hopelessly struggling 
to escape. The little creature was soon liberated, and the 
man felt that this sheep was certainly a rational animal. 
Another remarkable instance, of a somewhat similar kind, is 
mentioned, in which the ewe, after trying to rescue the lamb, 
and finding all her efforts vain, ran off, with most violent 
bleatings, to a neighbouring field, to reach which she des- 
perately broke through three or four hedges. After some 
time she returned, accompanied by a ram, which quickly 
pushed the lamb, by his horns, out of the thorny entangle- 
ment in which the little creature had been entrapped. In 
the former case the sheep, seeing no other aid near, had 
appealed to man; in this, the animalmust have made her 
wants known to one of her own species. It is useless to 
involve ourselves in a metaphysical maze by asking how 
animals can thus convey information from one to another. 
It is something to note the results ; that is within the pro- 
vince of natural history. The mode in which these re- 
sults are accomplished is yet one of many psychological 
mysteries. 

It is not to be expected that our domesticated sheep, 
which have everything done for them by man, should 
develop their natural faculties to any great extent. Could 
we note the habits of the argali, or wild sheep of Central 
Asia, or of the mouflon, the untamed race still existing in 
parts of Southern Europe, we might see abundant proofs of 
the sheep's intelligence. Whether the argali and mouflon 
are the originals of the domesticated breeds, or only de- 
scended from those which have escaped from man's 



248 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

dominion, is not the point for discussion here. A glance at 
the mouflon might puzzle even one of the judges of the 
Smithfield Club to decide whether the creature most re- 
sembles a sheep or a goat; but there can be no mistake 
about the energy, daring, and courage of the animal. It is 
a splendid Alpine climber, and rivals the chamois in the 
boldness and decision of its leaps. Could these sheep be 
as closely watched as those on the Cheviots or on the 
Welsh hills, we should probably find reason for believing 
that the ovine race would rank rather high among the in- 
telligent ruminants. 

The readiness with which a single Syrian sheep will run 
out from the flock, when called by its name, has often 
astonished travellers. The animal not only acknowledges 
its name, but, if the shepherd be really a good one, will run 
up to be caressed, just as a dog would. There is no reason 
for supposing that the natural faculties of these broad-tailed 
sheep are superior to those of our South Downs. Educa- 
tion makes the difference ; but a capacity for training must 
be possessed by such animals. 

The intelligence of the goat stands higher in popular 
estimation than that of the sheep. The physical energy 
and combative habits of the former have tended to produce 
this view, though not supported by any decisive facts. The 
sheep have certainly furnished us with more striking proofs 
of memory, watchfulness, and powers of combining for 
defence than the goats; perhaps if the habits of the wild 
ibex, and of the aegagrus, or mountain goat of Persia, could 
be more fully noted, we sho aid find abundant proofs of their 
intelligence. The animals are, undoubtedly, well able to 
hold their own in the Alpine regions of the East, keeping in 
small companies sufficiently strong to intimidate their foes. 



SHEEP, GOATS, AND ANTELOPES. 249 

The domesticated goat is well known for its inquisitive 
habits, prying into every corner, and inspecting new objects 
with a fearlessness which secures it from molestation. Some 
of these animals have shown a readiness to avail themselves 
of circumstances which would be thought clever in the dog 
or monkey. A goat had been often fed by the servants at 
a door. If the time for bringing out the expected food was 
allowed to pass by, the animal butted at the door until it 
was opened. The ingenuity of the creature went far beyond 
this ; she actually learned to imitate the actions of the post- 
man and others by ringing the large bell, the wire from 
which hung close to the iron rails. The servants at first 
imagined that some mischievous person had rung the bell, 
and watched the area carefully. They thus detected the 
goat in the very act of inserting one of her horns into the 
ring at the end of the bell-wire, and then by a sharp move- 
ment of the head producing a sound which no servant could 
disregard. The animal must have observed persons ring the 
bell, and have noted how this was followed by the opening 
of the door. She must then have inferred that the same 
result would follow the like action by herself. If any readers 
object to this conclusion, they must at least admit that here 
was no merely instinctive process. Learning to ring a bell 
cannot be the result of an unreflecting impulse; it is not 
an act which all goats have performed from the beginning. 
One such case as this may show to what an extent the 
faculties of animals may be educated by the force of circum- 
stances ; but all such training goes far beyond the im- 
mutable workings of instincts. There must, therefore, be 
another power in animals — a power capable of development, 
and of adapting itself to circumstances. It matters little 
whether we call this faculty animal reason of an inferior 



250 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

degree of human reason, but we shall confuse ourselves and 
perplex others by naming it instinct. 

The antelopes resemble the goats more than the 
sheep ; indeed, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish the 
wild goats from some antelopes. The round and ringed 
horns of the latter may, indeed, generally serve to mark 
the varieties, but in form and habits many species of this 
large family of ruminants approach the wild goats. They 
are also like these animals in watchfulness and courage, 
but often excel them in beauty of form and elegance of 
motion. Unfortunately for the purposes of science, these 
animals mostly inhabit regions where civilised man has few 
opportunities of observing their habits. The Bushmen of 
Africa, or the wandering tribes of the Asiatic steppes, are 
much more intent on killing than on studying antelopes. 
The Eastern poets have, it is true, drawn many a rich 
image from the bright eyes and graceful movements of 
the gazelle, and beautiful women have borne the Greek 
name of the animal, Dorcas. But even if the habits of 
this one beautiful species had been fully and accurately 
noted, we should still be far from knowing the peculiarities 
of the remaining seventy or eighty species. The chamois 
is, indeed, found in Europe, and therefore falls more 
under the notice of educated men than other antelopes. 
But the lofty Alpine peaks or mountain glens in which the 
chamois loves to dwell, give few opportunities for observa- 
tion by naturalists. The hunters, when intelligent, are most 
able to form a correct judgment about the animal. Their 
reports may help us to understand something of antelope 
life in general, and the narratives of travellers will give some 
notion of the countless swarms which traverse the plains of 
Africa and scour the uplands of Asia. The curiosity and 



SHEEP, GOATS, AND ANTELOPES. 25 1 

inquisitive habits of the goats are equally exhibited by the 
antelopes. Any fresh object arrests the attention of the 
whole troop, which circles round the strange animal or man, 
getting nearer at each turn. This insatiable curiosity aids 
the hunter, who has only to wait till the prying animals come 
within rifle-shot. Thus the love of knowledge is not without 
its perils, even for antelopes ; but the habit shows a fitness 
for the reception of new impressions. Most antelopes com- 
bine great caution with curiosity, and there appears to be no 
reason for doubting that many species perform their migra- 
tions under the guidance of a leader, and post watchers 
round about the host when they rest. It may be said that 
it is instinct alone which leads the oldest and boldest of the 
herd to place himself in the front, and that a like impulse 
disposes others to watch. Of course, all this is just possible ; 
but the results are so like the suggestions of reason, that 
many persons will attribute them to some exercise of this 
faculty. So watchful are the sentinels of the Saiga antelope, 
that all the skill of the Russian and Tartar hunters, in their 
attempts to creep within shooting distance, is often baffled. 
In this sharp contesjt between the skill of man and the vigi- 
lance of the animal, even a little success on the part of the 
latter indicates the possession of faculties fitted to cope, in 
some degree, with human reason. The Whang Yang, or 
Dzeren antelopes, when attacked on the march, do not get 
into confusion, but follow the leader in a long, unbroken 
array, which many a general of half- disciplined troops 
might envy. Even the gazelles arrange themselves in 
something like military order when attacked by the lions 
of the Sahara. They form a hollow circle, in the centre 
of which the females and young are placed, while the 
defenders present lines of horns, like a row of bayonets, 



252 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

towards the foe. When troops form a hollow square, 
we admit the operation to be the result of calculation : 
why should a similar manoeuvre by antelopes be ascribed 
to instinct only ? 

It is surely, then, allowable to conclude that signs of 
intelligence— of a faculty higher than instinct— are found 
among sheep, goats, and antelopes. 



PACHYDERMATA. 

The name pachydermata is derived from the Greek words 
which signify " thick skinned." Their teeth vary in strength 
and structure ; the number of their toes also varies from 
one to five. Thus, the horse has only one, the pig two, the 
rhinoceros three, the hippopotamus four, and the elephant 
five. The diversity of these characters has induced natural- 
ists to divide the pachydermata into several groups or 
families : that of the proboscides having a trunk ; that of 
the common pachydermata comprehending the rhinoceros, 
the hippopotamus, the pig, the tapir, &c, and the family of 
the solipedes or solid-hoofed, as the horse. 

Proboscides. — The elephants are the only representatives 
of this family — enormous animals, whose nose is developed 
in such a way as to constitute a long trunk, by which they 
seize the smallest substances, tear up trees, lift heavy 
burdens, and strike their enemies. Cuvier and others have 
estimated the number of muscles in the elephant at more 
than 40,000. These animals have two kinds of teeth — 
the incisors, forming long tusks ; and grinders, suited to 
vegetable food only. Their brain has numerous circumvo- 
lutions ; the hemispheres contain three divisions, and the 
whole cerebral mass is a little larger than that of man. 
They have small sharp eyes and a very acute smell. 



254 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

The elephant is, as we shall see, one of the most intel- 
ligent animals. 

The juments* are animals having the toes enveloped in 
hoofs, but not cloven. It is to this order that the horses, 
asses, and allied species belong. The common pachyderms 
include the hippopotamus, rhinoceros, and tapir. 

* Beasts of burden, such as the horse. 



THE ELEPHANT. 

THE MUSICAL ELEPHANT. — THE COURTIER. — THE BOUQUET 
MAKER. — ITS HATRED. ITS GENEROSITY. ITS AFFEC- 
TION FOR CHILDREN. 

" An animal," says Buffon, " is a being purely material, which 
neither thinks nor reflects, and which, nevertheless, acts and 
seems to have the power of determining. We cannot 
doubt," he adds, " that the principle of determination is 
only a purely mechanical effect in an animal." Yet this 
same Buffon expresses himself thus about the elephant : — 
"It has small eyes, but they are brilliant and keen, and 
distinguished from those of other animals by the pathetic 
expression of sentiment. The elephant turns the eyes 
slowly and with a gentle expression towards his master. 
He has a look of love for his guardian, of attention when 
he speaks, the glance of intelligence when he has listened 
to him, that of penetration when he wants to warn him. 
This animal seems to reflect, deliberate, think, and not make 
up its mind till it has looked several times at the object 
without hurry and without passion. 

" The elephant, once subdued, becomes the gentlest and 
the most obedient of all animals : he attaches himself to his 
keeper, caresses him, warns him, and seems to know all 
that pleases him. In a little time the young elephant begins 
to understand signs, and to note the meaning of sounds, to 
distinguish between the tone of anger or of satisfaction, and 



256 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

to act in consequence. He never mistakes his masters 
word, receives his orders with attention, executes them 
with prudence, with haste but without precipitation, for 
his movements are always deliberate." 

An animal which can note the meaning of sounds, can 
distinguish them, and act in consequence, is undoubtedly 
an intelligent being.' The elephant and whale are the only 
animals having a brain absolutely larger than that of man. 
If the relative size of the bodies be considered, then of 
course man's brain is the largest. 

Buffon adds, " Though the elephant has more memory 
and intelligence than any animal, he has a smaller brain 
than the greater part of them, compared with the size of his 
body. The nerves which extend through the elephant's 
trunk are so numerous that they equal in number all those 
distributed over the rest of the body. It is by a singular 
combination of the senses with the fine organisation of the 
trunk, that this animal is superior to others in intelligence, 
notwithstanding the mass of its body, and the disproportion 
of its shape." The elephant is at the same time a miracle of 
intelligence and a monster of matter." 

All these contradictions, all these hesitations in Buffon, 
prove that the illustrious naturalist, partial to his false 
idea of the mere mechanism of animals, was forced, in 
spite of himself, to recognise their intelligence. But he 
does not see the true organ of intelligence, which is 
not the nerves, but the cerebral hemispheres. The 
pachydermata come immediately, in development of brain, 
after the carnivora, which are only separated from man by 
the monkeys. The law is confirmed here which says that 
intelligence goes with the development of the brain hemi- 
spheres. The elephant's brain has numerous circumvo- 



THE ELEPHANT. 257 

lutions, and, contrary to Buffon's idea, this organ is not 
smaller than that of the greater part of animals. It is 
proved that the rhinoceros, the hippopotamus, and the 
gorilla have, the size of their bodies considered, a smaller 
brain than the elephant. Let us add that this centre of 
action is admirably served by the senses. The elephant has 
the ear perfectly organised, and the hearing extremely fine. 
He likes music, easily learns to mark the time, and to move 
in step to the sound of drums. His smell is exquisite, and 
he likes perfumes of all kinds, and above all, fragrant 
flowers ; he chooses them, picks them one by one, makes 
bouquets of them, and, after having relished the smell, 
carries them to his mouth, and seems to taste them. 

The touch, the principal seat of which is in the trunk, is 
very delicate. He can trace, with the aid of this kind of 
hand, regular characters ; can feel wholesale and touch in 
detail. The touch is so near the smell that these two 
senses co-operate together. The elephant has, if we may so 
speak, his nose in his hand. 

With such a complete organisation, we must not be 
astonished at the elephant's marvellous intelligence. The 
Academy of Sciences has recorded some interesting facts, 
transmitted by those who kept the elephant at the menagerie 
of Versailles. This elephant seemed to know when he was 
laughed at, and avenged himself when he had an oppor- 
tunity. To a man who had deceived him, pretending to 
throw something into his throat, he gave such a blow with 
his trunk that it threw him down and broke two ribs. 

Ancient writers have narrated many incidents showing 
the time during which elephants will remember an insult, and 
the singular modes of revenge which they will adopt Most 
of these statements are probably true, but the impossibility 

R 



258 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

of testing them must be our apology for omitting all men- 
tion of these marvels. We have so many trustworthy 
accounts of the doings of modern elephants, that we can 
easily dispense with the wonderful feats of the ancients. 
The mode in which the Indian elephant punished the tailor 
who pricked the animal's trunk with a needle, by drenching 
the offending man with water, is, probably, known to every 
English child, and further reference to this incident is need- 
less. Captain Shipp had some reason for remembering both 
the strength of the elephant's memory and the unpleasant 
mode in which it retaliates upon a wrong- doer. The 
captain tried a scheme which he supposed would test the 
tenacity of recollection in the animal. He, therefore, 
placed between two slices of bread-and-butter a thick layer 
of cayenne pepper, and gave the whole to the unsuspecting 
pachyderm. The creature's manner showed its disgust at 
the trick, but no attempt was then made to punish the 
perpetrator. About six or seven weeks after, the captain 
resolved to show himself again to the deceived animal. 
The elephant received the attentions of the visitor without 
the least sign of resentment, and the past seemed to be 
entirely forgotten. All at once, without the least warning, 
the unlucky and experimenting captain was deluged with a 
torrent of water from the trunk, of the sly animal. The 
creature had clearly concealed its emotions, just as well-bred 
human beings do, and had carefully watched for the oppor- 
tunity both of filling and emptying the trunk. Such an 
instance of self-restraint in an animal is a strong proof that 
it possesses the faculties which give the power of self- 
discipline. A story somewhat resembling this is told of the 
elephant kept in the " Jardin des Plantes," at Paris. An artist 
was taking the portrait of the animal, and wished to make it 



THE ELEPHANT. 259 

open the mouth and raise the trunk frequently. To obtain 
this action an apple was, at intervals, thrown to the elephant 
But to save a too great expenditure of apples, false throws 
were several times made, which had the effect of putting the 
trunk in the desired position, though irritating the creature 
exceedingly. At length the artist was about finishing the 
portrait, when the elephant filled his trunk with water, as if 
to drink, but, instead of so using the fluid, poured out the 
whole on the painter and his drawing. . The revenge was 
complete, the artist being drenched and the work almost 
ruined. Mr. Broderip mentions a case in which a year 
elapsed between a trick practised on an elephant and the 
day of the revenge. The cheat in this instance was giving 
some nauseous food to the animal, which showed its resent- 
ment at the time by dashing its water bucket at the head of 
the offender as he hastily retreated. The following year the 
menagerie, of which this elephant formed a part, came to 
the same town, when the same person endeavoured to repeat 
the old trick. He did not escape this time, being caught up 
by the enraged animal, whirled in the air, and narrowly 
escaping with the loss of his coat-skirts. 

In Madagascar, an elephant keeper, having a cocoa-nut in 
his hand, chose for fun to break this nut against the animal's 
head. The following day the elephant saw some cocoa-nuts 
exposed in the street before a shop ; he took up one with 
his trunk, and killed the keeper with one blow ot the 
hammer-like nut. This was literally practising the law of 
retaliation. 

These few cases may suffice to show that, if a resentful 
memory and a designed punishment prove the possession of 
reasoning faculties, then we must grant these to the elephant. 
Such animals are, it may be supposed, always ready to resent 

r 2 



260 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

wrong doing from one of their own species. A strong 
elephant at Bhurtpore snatched away a water-pail from a 
weaker neighbour, and then walked to the edge of a vast 
tank to get water. The plundered animal watched his 
opportunity, and rushing with all his might at the spoiler, 
pitched him over the edge to the bottom of the tank. How 
like a rational act was the whole operation ! 

The Versailles elephant was remarkable for his clever- 
ness, which was such that he took off quite easily a thick 
leather strap to which his leg was attached, undoing the 
buckle and the ring, and when they tied this buckle with 
a cord twisted in a number of knots, he untied it with- 
out breaking anything. One night, after thus getting rid 
of his strap, he broke the door of his dwelling so cleverly 
that his keeper was not awakened by it. The animal 
passed into several courts of the menagerie, breaking the 
shut doors, and also the masonry when it was too small to 
let him pass. He thus went into the enclosures of all the 
animals, and frightened them so much that they fled to hide 
themselves in the most distant part of the park. 

The stories of elephant sagacity might, indeed, fill a 
volume, for all their actions are marked, though in various 
degrees, by clear signs of this quality. In the year 1863, 
an elephant was employed at a station in India to pile up 
heavy logs, a work which these animals will perform with 
great neatness and speed. The superintendent of the 
labour suspected the keeper of stealing the rice apportioned 
for the animal's food. The man, of course, protested with 
all the vehemence of a native against the charge, and 
bemoaned his hard fate in being exposed to such a cruel 
suspicion. It so happened that the elephant was standing 
by during the loud discussion, and, though no one supposed 



THE ELEPHANT. 261 

the creature understood the words uttered, the result was 
remarkable. The animal suddenly laid hold of a large 
wrapper which the man wore round his waist, and tearing 
it open, let out some quarts of rice which the fellow had 
stowed away under the voluminous wrapper. Further evi- 
dence was needless, either of the man's guilt or the 
elephant's sagacity. The animal had probably seen the 
roguish attendant place its food in his cloth, and had simply 
taken the opportunity of recovering its rights. So closely 
do elephants remember the signification of the signs which 
have been taught them, that they will instantly obey the 
gentlest signal, such as the lifting up of a finger or the 
slightest touch on their ears. 

Bishop Heber tells of a malicious man who induced his 
elephant to kill a woman, by giving the sign of attack to 
the animal he was riding. Some natives had, however, 
witnessed the proceeding, and so clear was their testimony, 
that the man was hanged for the murder. The Mahommedan 
soldiers in the Mogul army trained their elephants to destroy 
the numerous small images of the Hindoo divinities. Of 
course, the soldiers pretended that the wise and theological 
animals had an innate hatred of idolatry, which could not 
be restrained ! The Hindoo knew better, and divined that 
a secret sign was given to the well-taught beasts. Indeed, 
there is scarcely an act, from the killing of a man to the 
uncorking of a wine bottle, which these clever quadrupeds 
cannot perform ; perhaps to thread a lady's fine sewing 
needle might be beyond their power, but we are not certain. 
The Exeter Change elephant showed his reasoning powers 
in the following device, witnessed by Mr. Jesse. This 
gentleman was giving some potatoes to his huge pet, when 
one fell on the floor just beyond the sweep of the creature's 



262 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

trunk. A few inches behind the potato was a wall. The 
animal blew strongly against the vegetable. Of course this 
sent it further ofT still from the trunk against the wall, but 
the recoil brought the potato back nearer than before to the 
elephant, which then secured the prize. It seems absurd to 
suppose that the animal knew anything about action and 
reaction, but the deed performed and the result attained 
were just what reason might have suggested to a clever 
child. 

An extraordinary instance of self-denial and recollection 
is described by Dr. Wilson, formerly Bishop of Calcutta. An 
elephant had become blind from an ophthalmic affection. 
A physician applied nitrate of silver to one eye ; the agony 
compelled the creature to utter a piteous cry, but the opera- 
tion was so far successful that some degree of sight was 
recovered. It was proposed to try the experiment on the 
other eye ; but was it at all likely the animal would submit, 
having already felt the pain ? However, the attempt was to 
be made, and the next day the physician visited his extra- 
ordinary patient. What followed seems almost beyond 
belief, but the testimony of educated and scientific eye- 
witnesses cannot be set aside. No sooner did the elephant 
see the physician, Dr. Webb, than he lay down of his own 
accord, and placed the head in a position which seemed to 
invite a repetition of the experiment. The operation was 
at once performed with the greatest ease. If all this is to 
be called mere instinct, then we may as well apply the same 
term to the noblest deeds of the human race. 

The strong memory of the elephant has, doubtless, 
much influence in developing its natural sagacity. These 
animals have been known to repeat, with the greatest 
accuracy, exercises which had been intermitted for thirty 



THE ELEPHANT. 263 

years. Yet, after so long a period, a single old and once 
familiar word has put in motion the whole train of asso- 
ciations. These may have been the exceptions, the geniuses 
as it were, of the species ; but even this is a supposition, 
and such animals may truly represent the intelligence of 
which the race is capable. 

The elephant is vindictive, but grateful. A soldier of 
Pondicherry, who used to carry a certain portion of arrack 
to one of these animals whenever he took his pay, having 
one day drank more than was good for him, and seeing 
himself pursued by the guard, who were about to take him 
to prison, took refuge close to the elephant, and went to 
sleep. The guard tried in vain to draw him out of this 
asylum; the elephant defended him with his trunk. On 
the morrow the soldier, recovered from his intoxication, 
shuddered at waking to find himself lying near such an 
enormous animal. The elephant, who undoubtedly per- 
ceived his fright, caressed him with his trunk to re-assure 
him, and made him understand that he could go. 

Some have doubted the generosity of the elephant, 
saying that he has an aversion for small animals. Major 
Smith relates a fact which completely contradicts this 
assertion. An elephant, publicly exhibited a few years ago 
in the United States of America, had a great affection for a 
dog. The spectators, trying to tease the elephant, amused 
themselves from time to time in pulling the ears of the dog 
and making it bark. One day this diversion took place 
near a barn in which the grave animal lived. As soon 
as the elephant heard his friend's voice in distress, he 
gave the planks a hard knock, and seemed astonished that 
the obstacle was not crushed under his weight. Then he 
struck with still greater force, made the planks fly into 



264 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



splinters, and looked through the breach he had made with 
such threatening gestures that the dog's tormentors found 
it convenient to decamp. 

Dr. Franklin relates that he has seen in India a keeper's 
wife confide the care of a very young child to one of these 
gigantic creatures. " I was even much amused," he says, 




The Elephant protecting a Dog. 



" in considering the sagacity and delicate care which this 
heavy nurse lavished on the child, in the absence of its 
mother, engaged elsewhere." The elephant had taken to 
its office in earnest. The child, who, like many others, did 
not like to remain long in the same position, and who wished 
everybody to be occupied with him, began to cry as soon 



THE ELEPHANT. 



265 



as he felt he was left to himself. It even happened that 
he got entangled in the branches of trees on which the 
animal fed. The elephant then loosed him with ad- 
mirable tenderness, either by raising him with his trunk or 
by removing the obstacles which could hinder the move- 
ments of the babe. If by chance the child had succeeded 
in dragging himself farther than the circle of the animal (for 








The Elephant acting as a Nurse. 



the poor beast was chained by the foot), the elephant 
lengthened his trunk and brought back the child, with as 
much cleverness as gentleness, to the place from which the 
little romp had wandered. The docility of the animal to 
its master's orders was only equalled by its watchfulness 
over the child. . 

The elephant and the dog are perhaps the only creatures 
to which you can confide a trust, and which will fulfil it 
without being under the master's eye. 



266 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

The watchfulness of the elephant is sometimes shown to 
be accompanied with reflection. An artillery officer relates 
the following fact : — 

" The train of artillery which was directed towards 
Seringapatam had to traverse the sandy bed of a river. It 
happened that one of the men seated on one of the ammu- 
nition wagons fell. The situation was most critical, and in 
a second of two the hind wheels would have passed over 
him. 

"The elephant, which walked behind, perceiving the 
danger which the unhappy man ran, at the instant, and 
without an order from his keeper, raised the wheel with his 
trunk, and held it suspended in the air till the wagon had 
passed over the man without harming him." 

Elephants, having been once taken in a hole hollowed 
out in their path, and covered with branches, are, when 
they have escaped from this trap, in a remarkably defiant 
humour. With their trunks they tear up a thick branch, 
"with which they go sounding everywhere before placing 
the foot, to see that there are no holes in their passage, in 
order to prevent being caught a second time." 

Mr. Thomas Anquetil has published an interesting 
article on the Indian elephant. We extract from it the 
following passages : — 

"In this country," he says, "it is the elephants which 
convey the teak wood from the place where it has been felled, 
in the forest or on the hills, to that where it is to be collected 
in floats of wood, on the banks of rivers, the two places 
often being several leagues apart. An elephant used ta 
this labour will often continue it alone, even in the absence 
of his keeper. The latter leads him to the forest, sets him 
to work, and takes no more notice of him. The elephant 



THE ELEPHANT. 



267 



arrives at the river bank with his burden, detaches, with the 
aid of his trunk, the iron hook, returns to the forest, again 
fixes the hook to the bands with which the trunks to be 
transported have been previously furnished, then starts again 
for the landing-place, and so on, not once failing in his 
arrivals, or slackening his pace, or delaying in his work till 
his keeper comes to seek him. He does not worry himself 




The Elephant rescuing a Soldier. 



in the least during these long journeys by difficulties in the 
ground, or other obstacles of the same nature ; he is able to 
overcome them easily, thanks to his extraordinary strength. 
"The elephants used for riding mount with facility 
the steepest paths, and roads obstructed with branches or 
brambles; stones or splinters of rocks are taken away in 
the same cool and easy manner." 



268 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

The Indians had trained these animals to be their 
horses ; the English employ them in moving machines of the 
greatest delicacy, power, and complexity. 

" I was shown," says Anquetil, " near the ruins of Ava, 
where a Chinese community still exists, a juggling elephant. 
At fifty paces he never missed the palm-tree against which 
he had been trained to throw stones. At last, taking several 
thick iron rings, he threw them into the air and caught 
them on the end of his trunk, as the staff juggler, whom 
we see in our streets, does with his cane. This elephant 
also executed the egg-dance, and performed tricks of 
balancing and gymnastics. At last he uncorked, most 
cleverly, a bottle of soda-water." 

The sacred books of India speak of an elephant called 
Khouny-Noor — or Black Diamond — cherished by the rajah 
to whom he belonged. Some rebels seized their sovereign, 
loaded him with chains, and took him into captivity, with 
Khouny-Noor. The latter showed no sign of discontent, 
but silently prepared his revenge. In a dark night he 
suffocated his keepers, broke his master's irons, fled away 
with him, and thus contributed to re-mounting him on the 
throne. The parties of Indian jugglers all possess an 
elephant accustomed to act the scenes which the greater 
part of our readers have probably seen in a circus or 
hippodrome. 

Here is a curious story. A young Burman lord had 
married a second time. On the morrow of the wedding-day, 
in the morning, the new bride, surrounded by a swarm of fol- 
lowers, wished to take the air under the verandah, a kind of 
covered gallery which reaches round the dwellings of per- 
sons of rank. The favourite elephant of the master — that 
which the young lord usually rode — was walking at this 



*La 




iJ x 



THE ELEPHANT BECOMES A COURTIER. 



THE ELEPHANT. 27 I 

instant, under the care of the keeper, in a palisaded en- 
closure, in the centre of which the habitation was situ- 
ated. Having noticed the presence of women, what did 
the creature do? He approached the verandah, leant 
delicately against a barrier of bamboos which enclosed a 
pleasure garden, picked the most beautiful, the freshest and 
most delicate flower, with the finger of his trunk, then shook 
his ears, gave an expressive cry, and showed significant 
attention in his gentle eyes ; after which, raising his head 
and trunk gracefully, he lifted the flower to the level of the 
balustrade. One of the women stretched out her hand, the 
elephant drew back his trunk. The same movement being 
renewed several times, the master then wished to take the 
flower ; the elephant did not now draw back his trunk, but 
he did not let go the flower. Upon this the queen of the 
fete advanced her hand tremblingly, and the extempore 
courtier then gave her his offering gallantly. Judge if he 
were not caressed from that time ! 

" I can guarantee the fact," said the narrator, " because 
I was there at the time." The person in question was a 
Portuguese, the eldest son of Cameratta, ex-cook, confiden- 
tial steward, and factotum of the Burman emperor, and 
director of the custom-houses of the empire. The son 
himself was chief of the custom-house at Mandalay. 



THE HORSE. 

TEACHABLE INTELLIGENCE. — MEMORY. — MILITARY HORSES. 

The noblest conquest that man has ever made is, without 
any doubt, that of the horse. Everything in this animal 
breathes out vivacity and energy. That need of continual 
movement, that impatience during repose, that nervous 
movement of the lips, that stamping of the feet, all indicate 
a pressing need of activity. The fulness of the skull, and 
the expansion of his forehead, show intelligence. The usual 
marks of the intelligent horse — one easily understanding 
his master's orders — are a well-developed head, eyes full 
and deep, jaws short, broad forehead, .ears erect and 
diverging one from the other, and both eyes and ears 
very sensitive. 

The horse has also a very strong sensibility. At the 
slightest excitement his breathing quickens, and the pulse 
becomes more rapid. 

Not only is his brain developed and provided with 
circumvolutions, but he also possesses exquisite senses. 
He has eyes set in such a manner that, while he is feeding, 
he has very long sight in a horizontal direction, and dis- 
tinguishes objects well during the night. His hearing is 
delicate, and he can easily collect sounds in his large, 
movable ear-cavities. This suppleness of the ear shows 
readily the character of the impressions made on the horse. 



THE HORSE. 273 

A bold and very movable ear indicates activity. An ear 
often moved, turned to all sides, the horse looking to the 
right, to the left, and behind ; an upper eyelid wrinkled, a 
look now fixed and now uncertain, indicate suspicion and 
fear. A horse that places its ears to the front, trying to 
scent the persons that approach, is docile, confidential, 
and disposed to receive caresses. The nostrils of the horse 
are full, and scent from a long distance odorous particles. 
His appreciation of delicate food is greater than in other 
herbivorous animals, the taste being more developed. The 
upper lip has great facility of action in feeding and picking 
up food. The skin is of an exquisite sensibility, and he is 
able, by wrinkling it, to drive off mischievous or troublesome 
insects. His voice, which is called neighing, is modulated 
by the sensations, desires, and passions. Five sorts of 
neighing may be noticed : — 1st. That oijoyfuhiess, in which 
the sounds get stronger and sharper; the animal bounds 
and rears, but has no intention of doing any harm. 2nd. 
That of desire: in this the accents are prolonged and deep. 
3rd. That of anger : this note is short and sharp ; the 
animal tries to kick, to strike with his front feet, and if he 
is vicious, to bite. 4th. That of fear : grave and hoarse, 
seeming to come only from the nostrils, and, like that of 
anger, it is very short. 5 th. The neigh of sorrow : it is a 
groan, a kind of suffocated cough, in which the grave 
sounds follow each breath. They are the most noble and 
the most intelligent horses, and also the most happy, that 
mostly neigh from joyfulness and desire. 

Wild horses choose their own chiefs, which give the 
signal of departure. When a field is dried up these walk at 
the head of the column, and are the first to throw them- 
selves into a ravine, a river, or an unknown wood. If any 

s 



274 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

extraordinary object appears, the chief commands a halt. 
He goes to discover what it is, and, after his return, gives 
by neigh the signal of confidence, of flight, or of combat. 
If a fierce enemy presents itself that cannot be escaped by 
fleeing, the herd unite themselves in a dense and circular 
cluster, all heads turned towards the centre, where the 
young animals take refuge. It is seldom that such a 
manoeuvre does not force the tigers or lions to make a 
precipitate retreat. 

The powerful nature of the defence formed by thousands 
of hoofs may be estimated from the mode in which a single 
horse vanquished a bear. Bishop Newton, in his autobio- 
graphy, describes a singular contest between a number of 
beasts collected in an arena by Frederick I. of Prussia. 
The king wished to provide some amusement of a fighting 
kind for the great Duke of Marlborough. As gladiators 
were out of fashion, animals were selected for combatants, 
and a horse, lion, bear, bull, tiger, and a wolf were turned 
into the enclosure. The ravenous creatures were soon 
engaged in a deadly struggle, the horse looking quietly 
on. The bear at length remained conqueror, and being 
enraged by battle and wounds, charged full upon the horse. 
The assailant was staggered by a tremendous blow from the 
hoofs of the attacked animal. Again the bear advanced, 
but then received such a sledge-hammer-like stroke that his 
jaw was broken. This at once decided the battle in favour 
of the horse. What was here witnessed on a small scale 
must often happen on the Savannah, when the wild horses 
form themselves in battle array. 

These hordes, generally composed of several thousand 
individuals, divide themselves into many families, each of 
which is formed of a male and a certain number of mares 



THE HORSE. 275 

and foals, that follow and obey the male with docility. 
The chief horse is the exclusive sultan; all the mares 
belong to him by the right of force ; woe to the fool-hardy 
one that disputes with him his seraglio and authority. He 
defies him, fights him, makes him retire, sometimes makes 
him pay for his audacity by the loss of life. Often the 
conqueror pardons his foe, but might not be so generous if 
he could foresee that his vanquished enemy was only going 
to wait till age had given him greater force and courage 
to renew the combat. When the chief becomes old and 
loses his vigour, he then succumbs under the kicks of his 
rival, or dies from misery and shame. 

What do the mares do when the furious rivals fight? 
They quietly graze, without appearing to take any interest 
in the issue of the combat, and place themselves afterwards, 
with docility, under the vanquisher. 

When man ceases to direct attention to the animals in 
studs, they elect chiefs from amongst them, which are 
almost always old males. Amongst sociable animals, sus- 
ceptible of becoming domestic, subordination is implanted 
by nature ; they yield themselves to one ; and this habit 
has for its object the preservation of the species. 

The habit of marching in troops, and of manoeuvring 
under the command of chiefs, renders the horse more 
fit than any other animal for the work of war, and man only 
profits by the natural taste of the horse, in training it for 
combat. These animals, finding in the life they lead in 
regiments an agreement with their general manners, enjoy 
themselves, and are happier than in any other condition of 
servitude. They acquire the knowledge of all the move- 
ments ordered, and are very soon capable, not only of un- 
derstanding them, but also of directing the inexperienced 

s 2 



276 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

horsemen who mount them. If the rider is carried off by 
a cannon-ball, the old war-horse does not desert the ranks, 
but continues to follow the chief of his file. Grognier 
reports that he has seen, when the columns of cavalry 
traverse a battle-field, abandoned horses follow, as far as 
their feeble strength would allow, the squadrons in which 
they recognised old comrades. 

A feeling particularly belonging to the horse is emula- 
tion. Whoever has witnessed a horse race can understand 
the ardour, vehemence, and struggle for victory, which 
excite the energies of both horses and men. The ani- 
mals have often endeavoured to hold their rivals back by 
the teeth. This will happen when the horses are left entirely 
by themselves, as on some of the Italian race-courses, where 
the horses run without riders. Both Mr. Youatt and Mr. 
Martin, in their works on the horse, mention several cases of 
such determined, and, as it were, personal rivalry. Mr. Bell, 
in his " British Quadrupeds," reminds us of a horse which, 
finding himself losing, gripped the opposing racer so furiously 
that the race was stopped, and the jockeys forced to dis- 
mount. The proceeding was, doubtless, a complete violation 
of all racing laws, but it showed how entirely the horse 
entered into the spirit of the struggle. A similar instance is 
reported of the famous race-horse Forester, which, when run- 
ning against Sir Tennison Shaftoe's horse, called Elephant, 
seized the latter by the jaw to hold him back. 

The horse is endowed with a very strong memory. It 
has happened to many persons that when they have lost 
their way in the night, and let themselves be guided by 
their horse, they have recovered their road. Franklin re- 
ports that he had a horse who conducted him in a mountain 
country, difficult to pass. Every time that he lost his road, 



THE HORSE. 277 

he left the reins on the animal's neck, which, abandoned to 
itself, never failed to regain the road. 

Mr. Youatt boldly asserts that the horse "never forgets" 
a road he has once passed over. He mentions the case ot 
a young horse which went a journey of about thirty miles 
across a country which the animal had never seen before. 
In two years after, the rider set out for the same journey 
on the same horse, and towards nightfall got completely 
bewildered among the wild moorland tracks. What was to 
be done ? The gentleman had heard wonderful tales about 
the memory of horses, but these recollections gave him little 
confidence now, as his own steed had travelled through that 
district but once before, and the night was dark and stormy. 
However, feeling the case desperate, the rider left the horse 
to take his own course. The animal set off in the darkness, 
and came in due time to the village where the journey was 
to end. The strong recollection which horses retain of 
places where they have been, and the tendency to stop at 
certain houses, or to go down particular lanes, must be well 
known to all who have much acquaintance with these 
animals. Their remembrance of persons is quite as strong 
as of places. Colonel Hamilton Smith was recognised by 
his old charger three years after the friends had parted 
company. The colonel was travelling by the mail-coach, 
and while the horses were being changed his attention was 
attracted by one. At the same moment the animal rubbed 
his head against his arm. The recognition was complete on 
both sides, being, however, more vivid and ready in the 
quadruped, for while the colonel was looking doubtfully, the 
horse showed an unhesitating recollection. 

The intelligence of the horse would be still greater if, 
instead of limiting it to mechanical services, we took the 



278 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

trouble to develop it. The most sagacious horses are, iu 
general, war-horses, because the soldiers in their leisure 
moments take the trouble to talk to the animals, and train 
them to all sorts of exercises. 

The war-horse is a companion and a friend for the 
soldier. He hears the voice of man, partakes of his warlike 
passions, and neighs with fury against the enemy. Some 
may remember that in 1809, the Tyrolese, in one of their 
insurrections, took fifteen Bavarian horses and mounted 
them; but in an encounter with a squadron ot the regi- 
ment, these horses escaped at a great gallop and carried their 
riders, in spite of all efforts, into the ranks of the Bavarians, 
where they were made prisoners.' 

Perhaps this rejoining of their old companions was mainly 
caused by the strong affection horses often have for animals 
of their own species with which they have been long asso- 
ciated. Friendship is not limited to the human race ; cynics 
even insinuate that it is by no means common among men. 
Perhaps the cynics are entirely wrong ; but it is, however, 
certain that horses have shown attachment for each other. 
Mr. Jesse mentions two Hanoverian horses who had long 
been associates in a brigade of artillery. One was killed in 
battle ; the other received his usual food after the fight was 
over, but, instead of eating, kept looking about as if search- 
ing for his lost companion. No inducement could prevail 
on him to touch food, nor would he pay the least regard to 
the other horses near. The soldiers tried every scheme to 
disturb the animal's old recollections, and .to awaken new 
impressions. The men saw that a trained and valuable horse 
was likely to perish for want of itc usual food, and the old 
campaigners taxed their wits to discover some mode of 
forcing the animal to eat. All efforts were useless, and the 



THE HORSE. 251 

horse died of starvation, or rather, as we may justly say, 
committed suicide from grief at the loss of an old 
friend. 

Horses will not only bemoan lost companions, but 
sympathise with and endeavour to aid their living associates. 
The mere statement of this will seem absurd to some, and 
they will laughingly ask whether we believe in the fourth 
voyage of Captain Lemuel Gulliver ? Our belief is founded 
upon evidence ; and such a basis of opinion is, we humbly 
presume, sought even by those who seem ever eager to 
reject all proofs of animal intelligence. Mr. Watson, in his 
work on " The Reasoning Power in Animals," mentions the 
following: — "A gentleman was one evening in the full 
enjoyment of a pleasant dinner-party in his own house. It 
so happened that a glass-door opened from the dining-room 
upon the lawn. Pushing open this door, a most extra- 
ordinary and unbidden visitor entered the room. Starting 
up, the amazed company beheld a quadruped which had 
never entered that room before. The gentleman advanced 
and recognised one of his favourite mares, which, un- 
daunted by the blaze of light and the crowding round her 
of the astonished guests, showed by voice and manner some 
strange emotion. Her master went up to the animal, which 
trotted off, uttering a peculiar cry. It was determined to 
ascertain the cause of the mare's strange conduct. She was 
followed to a neld, and the motive for her unwonted beha- 
viour was quickly ascertained. Her foal had got entangled 
in bog and briars, and the alarmed mother had adopted 
this effective mode of obtaining aid." A somewhat similar 
incident has, in a previous chapter, been told of a sheep, 
and in both cases the appeal for human help had a rational 
motive, and was prosecuted in a rational manner. Many 



282 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

cases of the same class could easily be given, but the mere 
accumulation of similar facts is hardly desirable. 

Some of the ingenious feats of the more clever horses 
have a close resemblance to human actions. Take the 
following case, narrated by Mr. Smiles in his "Life of 
Rennie, the Engineer:" — A horse, called Jack, was one 
among many employed at the erection of Waterloo Bridge. 
The horse was accustomed to draw the stone-trucks along a 
tramway to the places where the stones were required. A 
beer-shop was, of course, opened near the works for the 
special use of the 'navvies' and other workmen. The 
driver of Jack's truck was an honest sort of fellow, named 
Tom, who had one special weakness — an inability to pass 
the beer-shop without taking ' a little.' Jack was so accus- 
tomed to this, that, though a restive animal, he waited 
contentedly till Tom came out of his own accord, or till the 
appearance of an overlooker startled the man into activity. 
On one occasion, however, when the superintendents were 
absent, Tom took so long a spell at the ale that Jack became 
restive, and, the trace fastenings being long enough, the 
animal put his head inside the beer-house door, and seizing 
the astonished Tom by the collar with his teeth, dragged the 
lazy man out to the truck. Every man there understood 
the action of the horse, and great became the fame of Jack 
amongst the host of workers. 

Mrs. Lee mentions a horse which, having to cross an 
opening on some planks, and these having become slippery 
by frost, scattered with its feet some loose sand lying near 
over the ice-covered timbers, and thus secured a rough sur- 
face and a firm footing. This is precisely what a man would 
have done under the circumstances. 

Mr. Jackson, in his work, "Our Dumb Companions," 



THE HORSE. 283 

gives the following instance, illustrating the sagacity of a 
horse : — " The animal had been carelessly shod, and, pro- 
bably, suffered pain in consequence. The creature seems 
to have been quite aware of the proper remedy, for a few 
days after the shoeing operation the farrier was amazed to 
see the horse approach the door of the workshop, and hold 
up the hoof. An inspection soon showed the nature of the 
fault, which being rectified, the animal went off satisfied." 
The clever manner in which this horse escaped from its 
meadow must not be passed over. Having no means of 
unlocking the gate, he had actually lifted one end off the 
hinges with his teeth, and was thus able to get through. 
The horse mentioned by Lord Brougham, in his " Dialogues 
on Instinct," which, having watched the men pumping water 
into his trough, raised the water himself by working the 
handle up and down with his teeth, was a first-rate imitator, 
or a fair kind of reasoning animal. The general conclusion, 
therefore, seems to be that the more we become acquainted 
with animals, the more do evidences of their intelligence 
multiply, 



THE ASS. 

We liked the donkeys very much in our youth, and we shall 
still be happy in our older days to render justice to a misun- 
derstood animal, an honest beast, and a devoted companion 
of the poor traveller. The ass is hated, mistaken, blamed, 
badly fed, tugged to the right, to the left, turned upside 
down, beaten by all children, and only gathers the thistles 
of life. How much has this patient animal lost in form, 
since he delighted in his wild state ! His character is equally 
changed : he is no more a lively, wild animal, but a poor 
slave, stupefied by the kicks of an unpitying master. 

Toussenel, who is rather inclined to describe animals ac- 
cording to the common ideas entertained about them, seems 
to have taken literally " the folly" and " the gross ignorance 
of the ass." To him the ass symbolises, more especially in 
France, the water-carrier, who is his companion in labour. 
The native of the Auvergne mountains, he says, does not 
shine precisely in delicacy of language, elegance of manners, 
or nicety of eating. Toussenel would see a likeness be- 
tween the ass and the Auvergnat, as he would between the 
gentleman and the Arabian steed. 

It is not to-day that the ass and fable have first been 
united ; ages ago they were pleasantly joined in many a 
witty analogy. 

The Holy Scripture treats much of the poor beast on 
which the Saviour was mounted. The ass is venerated 



THE ASS. 285 

because it carried on its back a cross — the emblem of 
tribulations. 

As it likes thistles and thorns, it is compared to a 
philosopher who supports with calmness all the bitterness of 
life. The ass is, to some, a type of good men who renounce 
the pomps and vanities of the world. It has been remarked 
that the prudent beast does not traverse willingly the dan- 
gerous passes where it has stumbled. It is thus likened to 
the wise man who fears to fall again into the snare in which 
he was taken. The ass has little confidence in new waters, 
and has to be urged before drinking in unknown ponds ; 
therefore some have made it a model of prudence, and 
others a type of those who oppose all change, all new ideas, 
and the rignt of free examination ! 

After having compared the ass to a water-carrier, Tous- 
senel sees between it and the rough peasant a great resem- 
blance. The spirit of obstinacy, he says, and of systematic 
opposition to new ideas is, in reality, the dominant passion 
of the donkey ! The ass who is the emblem of the rough 
peasant, and of the boorish hater of novelty, errs above all 
by disuse of its intelligence. It is not so much the love of 
the old customs that binds it, but the horror of the new ! 
Toussenel admires the ass, and the peasant his image, 
because they are both admirable for their soberness, their 
constancy in work, and their resignation in poverty; but 
he should not make virtues of their faults, because he 
knows that it is through want of elevation in their aims that 
the peasant and the ass support their condition so patiently. 
It is very easy to say that, my dear professor, some may 
say; you yield too easily to your sympathies or anti- 
pathies. 

The ass is neither a dirty water-carrier, nor a rough 



286 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

peasant, nor an idler in intelligence, nor a being without 
elevation ! It is, on the contrary, an exceedingly clean 
animal, which continually reproves man for thrashing him. 
See him rolling on the grass, on the heath, on ferns; he 
does not wallow, like the horse, in mire or water ; he even 
fears to wet his feet, and turns away to avoid the mud. 

The ass, in infancy, is a pleasant fellow, full of gaiety 
and tricks. He only loses his gracefulness by ill-treatment, 
and the miserable life he is forced to live. 

No hairy animal is cleaner than this, and he differs in 
one respect from many of his betters — the donkey never has 
any fleas ! 

The donkey has not an idle intelligence. No being is 
more reflective, more prudent, or more sober. Now, sobriety 
is known to be the strength of intelligent people. Look 
also at its strong head, its eyes full of reflection set deep in 
their orbits, covered with large and bushy brows. But listen 
to Buffon, who is never more eloquent than when he has 
seen what he describes : " The donkey attaches itself to its 
master, although it is maltreated. It smells him from afar, 
and distinguishes him from all other men. It also knows 
the places it has inhabited, and the roads it has frequented. 
It has good eyes, admirable smell, an excellent ear, which 
has contributed to its being put among the timid animals, 
which are all said to have very fine hearing and long ears. 
When it is too much tormented, it opens its mouth, and 
draws back its lips in a very disagreeable manner, with a 
mocking and derisive air." 

The ass loves music. Here is an instance. Dr. Franklin 
says that a donkey of Chartres was in the habit of going to 
the castle of Guerville, where they often had music. The 
proprietor of this castle was a lady, who had an excellent 



THE ASS. 287 

voice. Every time she began to sing, the donkey never 
missed coming near the windows, and there listened with 
the greatest attention. One day, a piece of music having 
doubtless pleased it more than all it had previously heard, 
the animal quitted its ordinary post, entered the room 
without ceremony, and began to bray with all its might ! 




A Musical Connoisseur. 

This fact seems to contradict the opinion of Erasmus, 
who declares that this cross-bearing quadruped has very 
little inclination for music. It is true that he adds in behalf 
of his protege this extenuating circumstance, that if the 
donkey contributes little to harmony during its life, it gene- 
rously serves it after death, by furnishing the best skins for 
making the large musical cases, and the best material for 
clarionets ! 



288 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

The memory of the donkey is remarkable. The fol- 
lowing account was communicated to many by Lieutenant 
Alderson, of the Royal Engineers. In March, 1816, an 
ass which belonged to Captain Dundas had been em- 
barked at Gibraltar, for the island of Malta, in the frigate 
Ister. The vessel which carried it having touched some 
sandbanks near Cape Gata, the donkey was thrown over- 
board, to give it a chance of regaining land. The lot of the 
poor animal was deplorable, for the sea rolled so terribly, 
that a boat which had left the vessel was lost. Some days 
after, when in the morning the gates of Gibraltar were 
opened, the donkey presented itself for admission into Mr. 
Week's stable. Valiant, such was the animal's name, had 
before occupied this place. Great was the surprise of the 
honest merchant. He imagined that, for some reason or 
other, the donkey had never been placed on board the Ister. 
On the return of the ship the mystery was cleared. Not 
only had Valiant swam safe and sound to the shore, but, 
without guide, without compass, without a geographical map, 
had found its way from Cape Gata to Gibraltar, a distance 
of more than 200 miles, over a country it had never crossed 
before this adventure. It was a mountainous country, dif- 
ficult, and intersected by streams of water. The short time 
in which this journey had been accomplished showed that 
the animal had not gone from the right road. 

One author says, with much reason, that " the contempt 
which certain fabulists have heaped on the character of 
the donkey is more absurd than the respect which our 
humorist Sterne had for this creature." " I cannot," said he, 
" strike this animal. There is such patience, such resigna- 
tion written in its looks and its behaviour — all that pleads 
so much for it — that it disarms me. I do not like to speak 



THE ASS. 289 

to it rudely. When I meet it, no matter where, in town or 
in country, attached to a wagon or under baskets, in liberty 
or in servitude, I have always something civil to say to it, 
and my imagination then endeavours to comprehend its 
answers by the expression of its features." 

Could we see daily before us the beautiful asses of Spain, 
Arabia, and Persia, some attempts would certainly be made 
to improve the breed and general condition of our degraded 
British donkeys. The highly-bred asses of Persia are said 
by travellers to be " the handsomest animals in the world ;" 
and, instead of being left to the neglect of the lowest and 
most ignorant classes, are eagerly purchased by the noble 
and luxurious. Among all Asiatic people the animal was 
held in a respect which we can hardly understand, and 
which places all our proverbs in direct antagonism to those 
of the East. To liken a man to an ass is, with us, a term 
of the highest contempt; but when the dying patriarch 
Jacob wished to describe the fertile regions to be allotted 
to Issachar, he could select no phrase more descriptive than 
the words " strong ass." * The wild asses of Central Asia 
preserve to this day their ancient fame for courage, energy, 
and discipline. The sight of a vast troop of these active 
creatures, marching under the guidance of leaders, will 
scatter all our Western notions about an animal which, 
having degraded, we now despise. 

But even our common " donkey " does sometimes amaze 
his owner by some feat supposed to be far above his powers. 
A Yorkshire farmer, quoted by Mr. Jackson in his " Dumb 
Companions," declared that, whenever a trick was played 
by his animals, the demure-looking donkey was sure to be 

* Genesis xlix. 14. 



290 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

the ringleader. Some horses and a donkey were one day 
secured in a meadow, next to a field of oats. It was soon 
clear to the farmer that the animals had discovered some 
mode of getting into the ripening corn, and, a watch being 
set, the trick was discovered. The donkey was seen to 
unfasten, with his teeth, the spring-catch of the field-gate — 
a work which none of his nobler associates would* have 
attempted. The horses seemed perfectly aware of their 
companion's superior abilities, standing quietly by until the 
ass finished his self-appointed task. 

This animal sometimes combines a laughable obstinacy 
with intelligence. Some recent writer tells the following 
story of a Lancashire donkey belonging to a carrier. The 
master was accustomed to stop at a public-house for ale, a 
little of which was always kindly given to his quadruped 
companion and fellow-worker. Matters went on nicely for 
some time; but men, whether politicians, theologians, or 
carriers, are liable to change opinions and habits. The 
donkey's owner became a teetotaler — a conversion which 
the animal would have tolerated had it not diminished his 
own enjoyment. The carrier could no longer call for ale, 
therefore had no further occasion to call at the public-house. 
But there were two opinions on this point. When the carrier 
came to the well-known spot, " Forward " was his motto ; 
but the donkey drew up deliberately, as of old, not being 
aware of any change in his master's mind.' The carrier 
applied the usual arguments to the animal's skin in vain, to 
the intense delight of the publican, who held teetotalism to 
be the eighth deadly sin. What was to be done ? Budge a 
foot the donkey would not without his usual sip of ale, and 
the carrier was too kind-hearted to belabour his old friend 
when he saw the state of the case. But it was provoking 



THE A'sS. 291 

that he, a conscientious and determined teetotaler, must 
actually purchase ale to please his own ass. The man had 
also the additional mortification of remembering that he had 
formed the habit of the animal by his own act and deed. 
The dispute ended by the donkey getting the ale whenever 
he passed that way. It was a sad case of animal degrada- 
tion, doubtless ; but, though the ass sunk as a moralist, he 
rose as a genius. It was an honour, thought some, to have 
such a donkey in the district. 



SWINE. 

Some, on reading the heading of this chapter, may think 
that we ought to have passed over an animal so utterly 
wanting in dignity. We will not argue the question 
here in reference to our ordinary pigs, but only ask our 
critic to have a little talk with some hunter who has stood 
the charge of the wild boar in a Russian forest. The 
inquirer may chance to find the said hunter full of deep 
respect for the gallant bearing of the tusked foe. Swine are 
connected in structure not only with the pachydermata, but 
also with the ruminants and carnivora. But our main 
object being to exhibit the intelligence, and not the complex 
anatomical relationship of animals, we must omit further 
reference to the exact position occupied by the family of 
swine. Perhaps few would expect many proofs of either 
high instinct or low reason in these animals. Those who 
are best acquainted with their habits claim for them quali- 
ties which are by no means commonly ascribed to them. 
There can be little doubt that pigs possess a strong memory. 
The best proof of this is the readiness with which they will 
find their way back from new to old haunts, from which 
they have been taken. Among the instances of animal 
sagacity recorded by Mr. Watson is that of two pigs bought 
by a farmer at Reading market, to which they had been 
brought from a distance of some miles. The two animals 
were taken to the farm of the purchaser at Caversham, 
about two miles from Reading. Next morning there was a 



SWINE. 293 

great cry ; the pigs were missing, and for some time nothing 
could be heard of the fugitives. At length news came that 
two pigs had been seen swimming across the Thames. The 
next bit of intelligence traced them to Pangbourne, and the 
result was that the determined animals presented themselves 
at their old home after a journey of nine miles through cross 
roads and lanes. These pigs clearly acted in concert, 
escaping together, swimming the deep river in close com- 
panionship, and both entering their former home at the 
same time. These "path-findings" are by no means rare 
with pigs, many similar cases being mentioned by authors. 

The obstinacy of the pig is almost as proverbial as that 
of the mule, but Bernard Gilpin gives the animal a certi- 
ficate for docility. This writer affirms that, with kind 
treatment, a pig may become an " orderly, docile animal," 
and winds up by declaring that the animal may "be led 
with a straw." Mr. Gilpin does, indeed, admit that the pig 
"may have a degree of positiveness in his temper;" but 
may not that much be said of many men — ay, and of women 
too? In truth, if the pig were not docile, how could he 
ever have become learned ? But we have all heard of the 
" learned pig," which did not reach, perhaps, the heights of 
syntax, but had certainly mastered the elements of etymo- 
logy. This pig had not only learned the alphabet, but 
could pick up cards having the letters on them, and place 
them so as to form words. It was not a high degree o± 
learning, some will say ; very true, but remember the pupil 
was a pig. Even such a degree of scholarship could not 
have been attained by an animal with a feeble memory and 
without powers of combination. Nor must it be forgotten 
that there have been several learned pigs ; so that the 
honours of the race do not depend solely on the exceptional 



294 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

genius of one individual. A learned sheep is a marvel yet 
to arise ; no learned ox even can be produced, though old 
stories do hint something about a speaking ox. But we 
have our serious doubts on the point, and require more 
evidence before believing in these heathen miracles. At 
present, then, the advocates of the swine may rely on the 
past performances of a succession of learned pigs. 

What shall we say about the intelligence of the pig 
which learned by a little teaching to rival and even to excel 
the pointer in the art of pointing at game ? The feats of 
this keen-scented sow, and the tact with which she would 
stand at birds which the dogs had missed, may be read in 
Bingley's " Memoirs of British Quadrupeds."' A good 
scent may have aided this animal, but she must have 
possessed the capacity for receiving and retaining in- 
struction. This instance of a peculiar aptitude in the pig 
does not stand alone ; others may be found in the work of 
Mr. Youatt. 

Many persons can scarcely be brought to listen to 
evidence of intelligence in an animal which they deem 
degraded by its love for dirt. Here is another great mis- 
take. The pig is naturally a very clean animal, and would 
never sleep upon dirty straw if it could obtain clean. 
Thoughtless and negligent men shut up the animal in a 
wretchedly kept sty, and then wonder at its unclean habits. 
As well might we say that man is naturally fond of dirt, 
because neglected children are coarse and low in behaviour. 
The pig is seen sometimes to wallow in dirty pools, but 
this is done to cool the skin, and it is not the animal's fault 
if the only water it can find is a muddy pond. The dis- 
gusting state of many farmyards is such as no pig would 
tolerate if it had the direction of affairs. 



SWINE. 295 

It is not to be expected that the natural quickness of 
these animals should be much developed in a sty. When 
large herds are allowed to wander, under the management 
of keepers, in the beech and oak forests, their acuteness 
and energy are evident enough to all who can watch their 
habits. The wild species have little opportunity of showing 
any quality except their courage, which man calls ferocity. 
Man will charge his human foes with sabre and bayonet, and 
sweep their ranks with rifled artillery, without deeming him- 
self a savage. But when a hunted boar turns in desperation 
upon his armed pursuers, and gores horse and man with his 
tusks, this is called ferocity. It is, in reality, only "the noble 
art of self-defence," as practised by an assaulted animal. 
Thus man can only, in general, note the intelligence of 
the wild species of swine as it is displayed in battle against 
him. 

The Babiroussa* or Asiatic double-tusked swine, are but 
little known at present, but the peccaries of South America 
show an almost military skill in combining to resist attack. 
Often when the hunter has shot several of these wild pigs, 
he finds himself surrounded by a rapidly-gathering host. If 
no tree be near, the man perishes by a thousand tusks, 
and even should he ascend one, the peccaries will wait 
for hours round the tree until hunger compels them to seek 
for food. 

The above few remarks may serve to show that neither 
the domesticated nor the wild swine are so deficient in 
intelligence as many have supposed. 

* Hog-deer. 



THE CARNIVORA. 

Among animals, those whose appetite leads them to obtain 
their nourishment from flesh exhibit a larger amount of in- 
telligence. " Nature has given them," says Leroy, "very fine 
senses, with great force and activity, necessary to them, be- 
cause, having to nourish themselves by warring continually 
with other species, they would soon perish from hunger 
if possessing inferior or even equal powers." With Leroy, 
we admit the work of the senses in the intellectual mani- 
festations. We have already declared that a large de- 
velopment of the senses could supply even a want of 
perfection in the brain, in the same manner that a more 
lively instinct will give energy to indifferent powers of 
intellect; but the senses, the source of instinct, "are only 
the messengers of the intelligence. If we believed to the 
letter the law of intelligence drawn from the development 
of the brain hemispheres, we should perhaps find some 
contradictory statements respecting the carnivora, which 
order contains animals extremely intelligent and equally 
stupid. The brain is not the less the organ of intelli- 
gence. Leroy has studied so profoundly the intellectual 
faculties of this order of the animal creation, that we cannot 
resist the desire of referring to his chapter on the intelli- 
gence of the wolf and the fox. It is not, says he, entirely 
to the fineness of their senses that animals owe the vigour 
of their understanding ; but the lively interests, such as 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 297 

those of overcoming difficulties and avoiding perils, which 
keep in practice the power of feeling, and impress on the 
creature's memory the multiplied facts which all together form 
the guides of its conduct. Thus, in places distant from all 
habitations, and where game is abundant, the life of carni- 
vorous beasts is limited to numerous similar and simple 
actions. They pass successively from rich plunder to 
sleep. But when man places obstacles in the way of 
satisfying their appetites, when he prepares pit-falls under 
the steps of animals, and puts all kinds of snares in their 
way, keeping them in continual fear, then a powerful 
interest forces them to be careful. 

These obstacles offer the animal two ways of acting, 
which it will be as well to consider separately. The one 
is purely natural, very simple, and limited to few sensations; 
such is, probably, in certain respects, the life of the savage. 
The other springs from education, and is more active and 
full of interest and of fears, which in some measure repre- 
sent the agitations of civilised man. The first is generally 
the same in all carnivorous species. The other varies 
more in one kind than another, by reason of the organisa- 
tion being more or less happy. The two modes of life 
must be compared together. 



THE CAT. 

Can a creature possessing the highest carnivorous propen- 
sities be endowed with any intelligence at all? Such a 
question might be expected by some from one of the most 
fanatical members of the non-fighting club, but cannot be 
seriously proposed by any one who has studied the cha- 
racters of great warriors. Was Caesar an imbecile ? Was 
Alexander a stupid? Why, then, should warlike and pre- 
dacious animals be deemed inferior to ruminants or rodents ? 
We do not intend to examine how far the larger cats, such 
as the lion, tiger, and leopard, may be distinguished for 
intelligence, our object being to ascertain the capacities of 
the common domestic mouser. Many readers are aware of 
the superstitious awe in which cats have been held by various 
nations in past times — a feeling rather opposed to the notion 
of the animal's stupidity. It has even been credited with 
supernatural powers, and was once regarded as the most 
able agent of the witch in her awful incantations. These 
women were supposed, on certain important occasions, to 
be able to transform themselves into cats, for the greater 
convenience of holding their dreadful revelries. Even so 
late as the year 17 18 the sheriff of Caithness instituted a 
solemn judicial inquiry into the extraordinary and unwar- 
rantable conduct of a host of cats, alleged to be witches in 
disguise. The unhappy complainant in the investigation 
was a Mr. William Montgomery, who deposed to numerous 



THE CAT. 299 

instances of malicious persecution on the part of the witch- 
cats. Puss has, therefore, borne an important part on the 
" night side " of human nature, and many persons may agree 
with Sir Walter Scott when he declares cats to be " a very 
mysterious kind of folk." But as our views respecting these 
animals are much more prosaic, let us consider a few well- 
attested facts illustrating the intelligence of the race. 

When an animal learns to open the door of a closet by 
lifting the latch with its paws, we may safely admit that 
observation of the mode in which the door was opened by 
the inhabitants of the house must have been combined with 
some degree of reasoning. This feat has been performed 
by cats when any projecting ledge has given them a standing- 
place while the foot was lifting the latch. 

The cat's love for the places to which she has been 
long accustomed is well known, and the journeys sometimes 
undertaken to regain the old home are proofs of the animal's 
perseverance and acuteness. Mr. Jackson gives a little 
history which illustrates both the affection of the cat for her 
young and her strong attachment to a former abode. This 
animal had been removed to a new house, and having 
kittens soon after, it was naturally thought she would be- 
come accustomed to the place. For a time, Puss sub- 
mitted to destiny, attending upon two kittens with all due 
care. One day the cat and one kitten disappeared ; the 
one left behind could feed a little. But where had the 
mother gone? In two or three days, as was afterwards 
found, she and the kitten appeared at the old house in a 
deplorably weak condition. Being well-treated, she soon 
recovered, and actually returned for the other kitten, which, 
out of pure pity and admiration for her perseverance, she 
was permitted to lead away. Mrs. Lee mentions a cat which 



300 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

found its way back to a former home across two rivers. The 
distance to be travelled was only about five miles, but the 
energy evinced by such an animal in crossing the streams 
gives the incident its singular character. The determination 
to return, and the local associations, must have been strong 
in this cat, as she had been closely shut up for some days in 
the new home. In this case memory must have been as 
strong as the energy was decisive. These instances are not 
uncommon, and if our object were simply to accumulate 
facts, a very large collection might soon be made, all proving 
the strength of memory in cats. In one of these a cat made 
a journey of forty miles, carrying not one but two kittens 
with her the whole way. Mr. Jesse has recorded this 
walking and carrying performance of the cat. 

Some of the accounts given of the recollection of persons 
by these animals are as wonderful as those relating to places. 
Crimes are even said to have been thus detected. In a dog 
this would not very much surprise many, but we do not 
expect such exhibitions of superiority in the mouse-hunter. 
Mrs. Lee describes the mode in which the agitation and fury 
of a cat, in the presence of suspected murderers, led to the 
discovery of evidence which brought the case home to the 
criminals. The mistress of this cat was found murdered in 
her room, the only living inhabitant of the apartment being 
a large cat, which remained motionless on a shelf, notwith- 
standing the crowds who poured into the room on the 
discovery of the deed. At length two or three men entered, 
towards whom suspicion already pointed. When the cat 
saw these, it darted in a fury from its place of refuge, sprung 
towards the new comers as if about to attack, and then 
darted, as if frightened, under the bedstead. The extra- 
ordinary conduct of the animal told upon the superstitious 



THE CAT. 30I 

fears of the ruffians, whose confused behaviour led to further 
investigation, and to the consequent punishment of the guilty. 
There is nothing so very astonishing in all this, if we admit 
a strong memory in the cat. An animal accustomed to sit 
quietly by its mistress would naturally have all its emotions 
roused by the violence accompanying a murder. Having 
memory, what more likely than the excitement shown when 
the murderers again presented themselves ? Other instances 
of this kind are given in various works. 

These animals, when well treated, will often show a 
remarkable affection for creatures towards which, in general, 
they manifest a marked hostility or dread. Cats have 
exhibited the most laughable friendships for dogs, refusing 
to sleep except between the paws of their canine associates. 
This has often been seen when the two animals have grown 
up together, and when the dog has never been incited to 
attack the weaker animal. All this shows a power of adap- 
tation to circumstances, and a capacity of being trained, 
which can hardly belong to mere instinct. Still more sur- 
prising, perhaps, is the change of natural habit which is 
shown when the cat becomes fond of a bird. If there be 
one little thing more likely to attract Puss than even a 
mouse, it is the fluttering movement of winged life. Yet 
pet cats and pet canaries have been known to live on the 
most loving terms together. This must have been the 
triumph of a trained intelligence over instinct. In one 
case the two lovers were cat and goose, and the bird never 
seemed more happy than when waddling about with the 
feline friend seated on her back. 

When the cat conquers her natural dislike to water in 
pursuit of fish, we have another instance of the plasticity 
of the animal's faculties. A liking for fish as food seems 



302 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

instinctive in the cat ; the dislike to water is equally instinc- 
tive ; but sometimes this latter tendency is completely over- 
come for the sake of gratifying the former. Cats have keen 
known to plunge into water in pursuit of fish with all the 
zeal of otters. Even one such case shows how animal 
habits may be modified by the law of circumstances. It 
thus appears, then, that we can trace, even in cats, the 
workings of intelligence acting in combination with the 
impulses of instinct. 



THE WOLF. 

The wolf is the most robust of the carnivorous animals in 
the temperate climates of Europe. Nature has furnished it 
with a great voracity and many wants, in proportion to its 
force. It possesses very fine senses, a piercing eye, and a 
nose which aids in detecting everything that presents itself. 
When in good practice, it learns by these senses the rela- 
tion which objects have to itself. There is a vast differ- 
ence between the gait of a young and inexperienced wolf 
and that of an old and experienced one. The young wolves, 
after having passed two months in the den, where the father 
and mother nourish them, follow the latter, which is no 
longer able to satisfy a voracity daily becoming stronger. 
They help her in destroying animals, assisting in the hunt, 
and by degrees they succeed in aiding her to obtain the 
necessary food for their mutual support. The habitual 
exercise in plundering, under the eyes of an experienced 
mother, and having her example to follow, soon trains them.* 
They learn to remember those places frequented by 
game ; their senses are alive to the slightest impressions ; 
they accustom themselves to rectify by the sense of smell- 
ing the judgment which the other senses give them 
When they are eight or nine months old the she-wolf 
quits the preceding year's brood ; she flees from or hunts 
her children, who ought not to need her any longer; 
and the young wolves find themselves abandoned to their 



304 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

own resources. The family remains united for some time, 
and this association is necessary to it ; but the natural 
voracity of these animals soon separates them, because they 
cannot long bear the partition of the prey. The strongest 
remain masters of the ground ; and those who are weaker 
go elsewhere to pass their life, or often to end it in hunger. 
The little experience which they yet have exposes them to 
all the perils which man prepares for them. It is then 
that they scour the country to look for the dead bodies 
of animals, because they have neither strength nor clever- 
ness, as yet, to kill them. When they exist through this 
time of difficulty, their increased strength, and the instruction 
they have acquired, give them more skill in hunting. They 
are then able to attack large animals, of which one only 
will support them for several days. When they have slain 
one, they devour a part, and carefully hide the remains ; but 
this precaution does not keep them from" the -chase, and 
they only have recourse to what they have hidden when 
the hunt has been unproductive. 

The wolf lives thus, in the excitement of the chase, 
during the night, and in an uneasy and light sleep during 
the day. This is its purely natural life ; but in places 
where its wants are found opposed to man's wishes, 
the continual necessity of avoiding the traps set, and of 
providing for safety, constrain the wolf to extend the 
sphere of its activity to a much larger number of objects. 
Its walk, naturally free and bold, becomes precautionary 
and timid; its appetite is often suspended by fear; it 
distinguishes and recalls facts connected with its safety. 
Thus, at the same time that the wolf scents a flock 
enclosed in a park, the fear of the shepherd and his 
dog is recalled by memory, and balances the actual 



THE WOLF. 305 

impression which he receives by the presence of sheep. 
He measures the height of the fold, compares it with his 
strength, judges of the difficulty of leaping it when loaded 
with his prey, and decides as to the uselessness or danger 
of the attempt. However, in the midst of a flock spread 
over the country, he will seize a sheep in sight of the shep- 
herd, particularly if the neighbourhood of a wood leaves 




Wolves attacking a Flock. 

him the hope of hiding himself before being caught. It is 
not necessary for an adult wolf to have much experience, 
when he is living in the neighbourhood of habitations, to 
learn that man is his enemy. As soon as man appears, the 
wolf is pursued ; the riot and commotion show him how 
much he is hated, and all that he has to dread. Every time 
that the scent of man strikes his nose, it awakes in him 
thoughts of danger. The most seducing prey is presented 



306 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

to him uselessly, because it has an alarming suggestiveness, 
and even when it has it no longer, it leaves him suspicious 
for a long time. The wolf, then, can, at first, only have 
an abstract idea of danger, because he has not an intimate 
knowledge of the trap set for him. However, he entertains 
this idea, approaching a suspicious object by scarcely per- 
ceptible degrees ; several nights hardly suffice to re-assure 
him. The scent of man suggests the notion of peril, and 
renders suspicious the most dainty baits. 

It is a science of dread that the wolf is obliged to 
acquire ; the interest in his preservation is never wanting 
in an adult wolf who has much experience, and extends 
more or less according to the circumstances which oblige 
him to think for himself and reflect. Without arguing like 
us, it is at least necessary that he should compare the 
feelings of danger he has experienced ; that he should 
judge of the relations which objects have to each other, 
and those that they have with regard to him. Without 
this it would be impossible for him to foresee what he 
ought to fear or hope from objects. Naturally more rough 
than distrustful, experience renders the wolf watchful, and 
necessity makes him industrious. But he only has these 
qualities by acquisition, and they are never his natural 
powers. If he is hunted by dogs he only rids himself of 
the pursuit by his superior speed and power of lung. He 
never has recourse to doubling, and other schemes of 
weaker animals. The only precaution he takes, and in- 
deed which he can take, is to always flee with his nose 
to the wind ; this sense of smell warns him faithfully of 
the dangerous objects which he may encounter on his road. 
He turns enough to avoid peril, but without losing the 
wind, which is always his guide. As he is vigorous and 



THE WOLF. 307 

practised, and the chase has often forced him to run over 
a large extent of country, he directs his course towards the 
far-off places which he knows, and we cannot succeed in 
misleading him without multiplying ambuscades with much 
difficulty and preparation. 

The wolf employs, when seeking his food, all his watch- 
fulness and strength. He takes measures to assure himself 
of the place where he will find his prey. And if in this re- 
search he chooses one place rather than another, this choice 
arises from facts previously known. He thus observes for 
a long time the different kinds of peril to which he is ex- 
posed; and this calculation of probabilities holds him in 
suspense till appetite comes to put a weight in the balance 
and determines it. Precautions for safety require more 
foresight, that is to say, a greater number of facts engraved 
in the memory. The wolf must then compare all these 
facts with the sensations he feels, judge of the relation 
between these facts and the sensation, and at last come 
to a decision. All these operations are absolutely neces- 
sary. For example, it would be wrong to think that the 
fear which is excited by a sudden noise in the greater part 
of the carnivorous animals is a purely mechanical effect. 
The agitation of a leaf only excites in a young wolf a 
movement of curiosity; but the instructed wolf, who has 
seen the movement of a leaf announce a man, frightens 
himself with reason, because he judges of the relation 
between these two phenomena. When these have been 
often repeated, and the repetition has rendered habitual 
the actions which are the consequences of them, the 
promptitude with which the action follows the decision 
makes it appear mechanical. With a little reflection, it 
is impossible to misunderstand the steps which lead to it. 

u 2 



308 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

It may be that the idea of this relation between the move- 
ment of a leaf and the presence of man is very lively, and 
realised on different occasions : then it will be established 
in the memory as a general idea. The wolf will find him- 
self subject to idle fancies and false decisions, which are the 
fruit of imagination • and if these false opinions extend to 
a certain number of objects, he will become the plaything 
of illusions which will precipitate him into an infinity of 
false proceedings. He will see traps where there are none ; 
fright, deranging his imagination, will represent to him, in 
another order, the different feelings which he has received, 
and will form out of them deceiving forms, to which he will 
attach an abstract idea of peril. This, in fact, is noticed in 
carnivorous animals everywhere, when they are often hunted 
and continually besieged with traps. Their proceedings 
have no longer the assurance and liberty of nature. The 
hunter, in following the animal's steps, only seeks to dis- 
cover its lair. But the philosopher reads there the history of 
its thoughts ; he unravels the uneasiness, frights, and hopes 
of the animal ; he sees the motives which have rendered 
the steps precautionary, which have suspended or quickened 
them. 

Associated wolves hunt together, and the help they give 
each other renders their chase easier and safer. If it is a 
question of attacking a flock, the she-wolf occupies herself 
with the dog, which she draws away after her, while the male 
leaps the fold and carries off a sheep. If they want to 
attack a wild beast, their work is divided according to 
strength. The he-wolf goes in search, attacks the animal, 
pursues it, and then the she-wolf attacks with fresh strength, 
and renders in a short time the combat very unequal. 

It is easy to see how such actions result from intelli- 



THE WOLF. 309 

gence, but it seems difficult to form associations of this 
nature without an articulate language. However, as has 
been said, the wolf is one of those carnivorous animals 
which, considering its strength, has the least need of 
artifice. The necessity of rapine, the habit of murder, 
and the daily enjoyment of animals' limbs, torn and bleed- 
ing, do not appear as if they could form in the wolf a 
very interesting character. Yet, except in the case of 
rivalry, one does not see that wolves exercise direct cruelty 
against one another. As society exists between them, 
they defend each other mutually, and maternal tenderness 
is carried in the wolves to an excess of zeal which entirely 
despises peril. It is said that a wounded wolf is followed, 
and at last devoured by its fellows. But this is a rather 
disputed fact, which is surely not common, and may have 
sometimes been an effect of that necessity which knows no 
law. Every being leading a hard and isolated life, divided 
between solitary work and sleep, can be but slightly sensible 
to feelings of compassion. 



THE FOX. 

The fox has the same wants as the wolf, and the same 
inclination for plunder. He has senses as fine, more 
activity, and more suppleness ; but he wants strength, and 
is constrained to supply the want by cleverness, tricks, and 
patience. One of the first effects of industry in which he 
is superior to the wolf, is that of making for himself a 
burrow, which shelters him from the coldness of the air, and 
serves him at the same time for a retreat. In order to 
spare himself trouble, he generally takes possession of those 
inhabited by rabbits, hunting them out and establishing 
himself. When some reason determines him on changing 
his locality, his first care is to visit all the burrows which 
may suit him, above all, those formerly inhabited by foxes. 
He examines them successively, and it is not till he has 
gone through them all that he fixes himself at last. But, if 
he is disturbed, even lightly, in that which he has chosen, 
he soon changes, and does not allow discomfort to approach 
the place which he has destined for his dwelling. The fox 
thus established, surveys in a short time all the environs of 
his burrow for a long distance. He takes notice of the 
villages, the hamlets, the isolated houses, and examines the 
poultry yards ; he informs himself of the places where the dog 
is loud and active, and of those where tranquillity reigns; 
he remembers the hedges and covered places which could 
favour his escape in case of peril. This train of pre- 



THE FOX. 311 

cautions, and so many possibilities foreseen, necessarily 
show that many facts are fixed in his memory. Always 
guided in his pace by a decided mistrust, he rarely lets 
himself be carried away in the heat of pursuit to follow a 
flying prey ; he gets near it, creeping along, and seizes it 
by jumping on it lightly. When he is well assured that 
tranquillity reigns in a poultry-yard, he tries to enter it, and 
his natural activity easily gives him the means. Then, if 
he is not disturbed, he profits by multiplying murders, till 
the approach of day makes him fear for his safety, and he 
retreats. He thus collects provisions for several days, and 
hides with care all the remains against a time of need. 

If the fox is established in a country where there is much 
shooting, his industry has other forms to take to satisfy his 
voracity. Sometimes he runs about the country, with his 
nose to the wind, detects a hare in its dwelling, or some 
partridges lying down in a furrow. He approaches in 
silence ; his steps, scarcely heard on the soft earth, show 
his lightness and the intention he has of surprising, and he 
often succeeds. Sometimes the fox succeeds by patience ; 
he glides through the whole of the wood, observes a rabbit's 
run, hides himself, waits, and seizes the victim when it is 
unprepared. 

But the hunt is not always immediately the object of the 
fox. Although satisfied with food, active foresight makes 
the animal again go out, less with the intention to seek for 
prey, than to acquaint itself more surely with the country 
which furnishes it with food. It often comes again on the 
same burrows it has before seen, goes the round of them 
with much precaution, enters, and carefully examines the 
different holes. The fox gradually approaches objects which 
are new to him : all novelty is suspicious, and each step in- 



312 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

dicates distrust and examination. However, the fox is 
often taken in snares, when these are not known to him ; 
but as soon as they are noted, they become of no use. 
There is then no allurement which can make the fox 
brave the danger it recognises or suspects. It discovers 
the iron of the snare, and this sensation becomes terrible 
to it, and overcomes every other impression. 

If the fox perceive that the snares are multiplied, it 
leaves its present home to find one more safe. Some- 
times, emboldened by gradual and reiterated approaches, 
guided by the sure smell, it will find the means of quietly 
stealing a bait without exposing itself to the trap. One 
sees that this action supposes a keen sight and complicated 
combinations. We should never finish if we detailed all the 
causes which make the fox change its home, the motives 
which balance the power of habit, and all the varieties of its 
conduct. All this is necessary to a weak animal, which finds 
itself in competition with man, who opposes its wants and 
its pleasures. If it be a natural advantage to have a retreat, 
and a domicile, this is also one means more by which man 
attacks the fox. He easily discovers its dwelling, and 
then comes to take it ; but man, with all his machines, 
wants much experience to overcome the prudence and 
cunning of the fox. If all the openings of the burrow 
are covered by snares, the animal discovers them, and 
sooner than be entrapped exposes itself to the most 
cruel hunger. We have known some remain nearly fif- 
teen days in a hole, determined not to go out until 
hunger has left them no other choice than that of death. 
This fear which seizes the fox is neither mechanical nor 
inactive. There is no attempt it does not make to avoid 
peril ; as long as its claws remain it works at making a new 



THE FOX. 313 

opening, by which it often escapes from the snare of the 
hunter. If some rabbit has just been caught in one of the 
traps, the animal judges that the machine has done its 
work, and passes out boldly. 

The only passion which makes the fox omit its ordi- 
nary precautions is affection for its family. The necessity 
of feeding the young renders the father and mother, but 
especially the former, more bold than they are for them- 
selves, and this pressing interest makes them often brave 
peril. Hunters know how to profit by this love of the fox 
for the family. Common cares and interests engender 
affections which spread far beyond physical wants, properly 
so called. These animals, familiar with scenes of blood, 
do not hear, without being moved, the cries of their little 
suffering ones. Chickens certainly have the right of not 
looking upon them as compassionate animals ; but their 
females, their children, and all of their species have not 
anything to complain of. This tender inquietude, which 
leads the female fox to forget herself, renders her keenly 
attentive to all dangers which might threaten the little ones. 
If a man comes near the burrow she carries them away 
during the following night ; and she is often forced to 
turn out thus, because at these times the foxes arouse the 
neighbourhood by their ravages. 

Besides the interest which man has in destroying the 
fox, he has made the hunting of this animal a means of 
amusement. At first the fox does not go very far from its 
retreat, but when alarmed by pursuit it goes far away, and 
to retard the progress of the dogs, passes into the thickets, 
which it well knows. If some hunters lie in wait to fire as 
it passes, it shuns them, and will attempt anything rather 
than pass near a man. 



314 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

We have seen one jump backwards and forwards three 
times over a wall nine feet high, to avoid the ambuscades 
prepared for it. But as the fox has only flight as a resource, 
and has less vigour than the dogs, after having exhausted all 
its power of flight, its dexterity and schemes, fatigue forces 
it to hide in some hole, where it often perishes. 

It has been remarked that this animal's customary 
manner of living, and the details of its daily actions, lead 
us to expect deeper plans, more complicated schemes, 
and a wider and keener sight than the wolf has. Prudence 
is the resource of weakness, and it often guides the feeble 
better than boldness does strength. Montaigne shows 
how the inhabitants of Thrace, when they wish to pass 
over the ice of some frozen river, use the intelligence of 
the fox, 

" They loosen a fox and send it before them. We saw 
the animal go to the rivers bank, and put its ear close to 
the ice, as if to judge the thickness of the ice from the 
sound of the flowing water beneath. As it found by that 
means the ice to be more or less thick, so it went or drew 
back." 

May we, then, not be right in judging that the same 
ideas pass through its head as through ours, and that it thus 
arranged an argument, and drew a conclusion : whatevei 
makes a noise or moves is not frozen : whatever is not 
frozen is liquid ; and whatever is liquid bends under the 
weight ? To attribute that process to a lively sense of hear- 
ing only, without any reflection, may be a dream of our 
imagination. George Leroy adds that we remark in these 
animals an aptitude to teach themselves. They are ignorant 
and imbecile in places where open war is not made upon 
them, but become clever, penetrating, and cunning when 



THE FOX. 



315 



fear of pain or death, presented under a thousand forms, has 
made them feel multiplied sensations. 

These sensations are fixed in their memory ; they 
produce judgments, which are not always sure, but ex- 
perience rectifies them. It is easy to recognise in the 




- : ^H 




A Fox trying the Ice. 



different ages of these animals their progress in the art of 
judging. In youth, imprudence and giddiness cause many 
false steps. Even the perils to which they are exposed 
often mislead their judgment, and make them look upon all 
unknown forms as dangerous. 

Old wolves and foxes, which necessity has often put in 



316 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

the way of verifying their judgments, are less apt to be 
struck by false appearances, but are more cautious against 
real dangers. A misplaced fear may cause them to lose a 
night's work and a dinner. They have, therefore, a deep 
interest in acquiring habits of close observation. Their 
wants produce attention, and this power, once gained, 
enables the fox to separate the particulars which distinguish 
one object from another. The constant repetition of such 
acts renders the judgment of old foxes prompt, easy, and 
sure. 



THE DOG. 

Do you know a more intelligent and devoted friend than 
the dog ? When young you did what you liked with him ; 
used him for a horse, rode on him, tied him to your barrow, 
you pulled his tail and his ears, and sometimes you varied 
your amusements by beating him. 

He never complained; on the contrary, he seemed happy 
to receive even your maltreatments ; he cried a little, but he 
soon licked your hand, looked at you with the kindest eye, 
and even seemed to offer his back to have the honour of 
carrying you. Later, when you went to school, what was 
the last caress you received, the last cry you heard? It 
was that of your dog, which for a long time followed the 
carriage. And when you returned, without the least prize, 
who received you with the greatest joy, enthusiasm, and 
sincere friendship ? — your dog. Poor beast ! one would 
think he wished all the village to know you had arrived, 
he barked as loudly as he could, caressed your feet, ran 
to you in a frenzy of joy, and seemed to wish to send away 
all those who approached you. 

Poor dog ! He has been your protector and comforter, 
he is now your friend and companion, sharing your joys 
and pursuits. He accompanies you in the chase, and 
becomes, as it 1 were, one with you. He is your guide, and 
you have only to follow his steps and least movements. It 
is he who teaches you to become skilful as a sportsman, 



318 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

seeming to say, " Seek, and you will find " — you only kill 
and profit by it. He does not ask to share the booty, but 
as a reward for his untiring zeal, weariness, and bleeding 
paws, craves only a morsel of bread and a little water — 
above all, a kind look and a good word. 

He begs no more, but, if you would make him very 
happy, let him lie on the carpet by your side, then he could 
not be happier. All night he dreams of the chase, gets up, 
fancies he is in pursuit, and seizes the prey, then barks in 
his sleep. But this is not all; this noble animal will do 
more ; by his affection he becomes your confidant, your 
messenger of love ; announces your arrival when you go 
to pay a visit. He can be gay to gain approbation, or 
grave, according to your will. He loves those whom you 
love, and in this respect will often be your best counsellor. 
You can judge by his manner of treating them who are 
friends and who are foes. But it is above all in time of 
trouble, when misfortune has shown you the hollowness of 
the world, that you can fully appreciate the tenderness, 
fidelity, and devotion of the dog. He will console and 
caress you, lick your hand, and regard you with a fond 
eye. 

Everything in the disposition of a dog can be turned to 
account, because his nature is confiding and noble. Most 
dogs are ardent in their feelings, and full of sagacious 
activity. But if you would make use of this activity, you 
must first gain their hearts by kindness, and, we must say, 
by flattering them a little. 

It is easy to understand that an animal, even with but 
little brain, being so wonderfully gifted with fine senses, 
might manifest much intelligence. The celebrated phreno- 
logist, Gall, had a dog which possessed, he said, the organ 



THE DOG. 



3*9 



of word- memory. "On this subject I have made," says this 
phrenologist, "the following observations: — I have often 
spoken intentionally of things which might interest my dog, 
avoiding the mention of his name, and not letting any gesture 
escape me which would be likely to arouse his attention. 
He always exhibited pleasure or pain suitable to the occasion, 
and by his conduct afterwards showed that he understood 
perfectly well." 

When Gall quitted Germany to establish himself at Paris, 
he brought his dog with him. At first the animal appeared 
astonished and unhappy, because he could not understand 
the conversation. However, by degrees, he learned some 
French, becoming equally clever in that as in German. " I 
assured myself of this," said Gall, " in sometimes speaking 
to him in French, and sometimes in German." 

A person well known to Chaillot by the nick-name of 
"The Dog's Mother," has proved that the dog perfectly 
understands much of the conversation carried on before him. 
M. Louis Noir relates that one day she made a decisive 
experiment in his presence. She pretended to be nego- 
ciating the sale of her favourite spaniel ; she argued the 
terms, without any peculiarity of manner, and without raising 
her voice. The dog began whining immediately, rolling 
at her feet, and entreating her, in dog-fashion, not to sell 
him. She gave twenty other conclusive proofs in a similar 
manner. In the same way that the dogs comprehended 
her language, she also understood theirs. She very truly 
remarked that a dog does not ask for water in the same 
manner that he begs for food. In fact, a dog is, perhaps, 
the best example one could take in order to prove that 
animals have a language of their own. It is evident that 
each species of animal possesses a language suitable to its 



••»20 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

instincts and manner of living. This language is composed 
of voice and gesture. The gesticulating language is much 
more extended amongst animals than that of the voice, 
especially in the superior orders. The dog best unites 
voice and gesture in the manifestation of its feelings. 
Observe the dog : some one knocks at the door, his voice 
is loud, threatening, and full of anger ; his eye flashes, his 
tail is erect. Beware how you enter ! An instant after the 
door opens — it is his master. The dog bounds forward, 
shows his delight by wagging his tail, looking up into his 
face, and uttering cries expressive of happiness. But 
observe him also when following his master's bier : his 
head bent downwards, his eyes fixed on the ground, his 
tail drooping, his step slow, his voice silent, and his whole 
attitude expressive of sorrow. 

Each animal, then, has a language sufficient to express 
the emotions belonging to its nature, and to make them 
understood by animals of the same species, or, indeed, of 
any other. Those which do not possess the organ of voice 
make use of mimicry, rendering themselves well under- 
stood. The deficiency in one sense is compensated by the 
development of another. If animals had no language, 
how could they accomplish the education of their little 
ones ? It has been remarked that, in countries where he 
fox is hunted by man, the young ones have more cunning 
than the old foxes in uninhabited countries. How can 
this be explained otherwise than that the young ones have 
received lessons from their parents ? 

The dog, as we have said, is one of the animals which 
can best express its feelings by voice and gesture. The 
more energetic the gesture, the greater intelligence and will 
are displayed. Feeble movement shows a careless disposi- 



THE DOG. 321 

tion ; an energetic action, on the contrary, corresponds to 
a strong will, subduing even the instincts. 

Everybody has seen an infuriated dog — the ears erect, 
stretched out, enlarged, and placed so as best to receive the 
impressions of sound. The outside of the ear, in dogs, is 
often directed to the same point as the eyes, when hunting. 
The organs of the inferior senses have expressions not less 
intelligible. See, says Gratiolet, how the nostrils dilate to 
receive pure and refreshing air. How they pucker up at 
the sides, elevate, and contract, in rejecting a bad smell. 
And with what delicacy they inhale sweet odours, which 
they wish to examine at leisure ! And these movements 
are easy and free, if the odour be agreeable. If it be dis- 
agreeable, they are more irritable ; the nose then becomes 
more strongly curved; the upper lip rises lightly, swelling 
at its base. These motions show distrust, and a feeling 
of doubt about some food they are interested in, but with 
respect to which they are on their guard. The nose is 
with dogs the chief director of the whole body. The 
expression, the gestures, and the play of the physiognomy 
are clear signs of intelligence ; and, if man alone has the 
power of laughing, the sporting-dog is said to have that 
of smiling. 

It has often been asserted that the dog wants speech. 
If Leibnitz may be believed, even that faculty is not always 
wanting. This illustrious philosopher states that, in Saxony, 
he met with a dog which could pronounce twenty words 
quite distinctly. 

BurTon could not refrain from acknowledging the intelli- 
gence of the dog. " For sagacity, attachment, and gratitude 
— in a word, for all the effects of instinct which resemble 
reason — the dog, amongst animals, is Nature's masterpiece. 

v 



322 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

" The dog, faithful to man, will always maintain a certain 
degree of superiority, a power of dominion, so to speak, 
over the other animals. He commands and reigns supreme 
over the flock, where he makes himself better heard and 
understood than the shepherd. Safety, order, and discipline 
are the effects of his vigilance and activity in conducting 
creatures who submit to him, which he protects, and against 
which he never employs violence except to maintain peace. 
But it is especially in warfare, against hostile or independent 
flocks of animals, that his courage and intelligence are called 
forth and fully displayed. Natural talents are then united 
to acquired qualities. As soon as the sound of arms is 
heard, or the horn of the huntsman has given the signal for 
approaching conflict, burning with ardour, the dog manifests 
his joy by the most lively transports \ he shows, by his 
gestures and cries of impatience, the desire to combat and 
vanquish. Then, moving forward silently, he reconnoitres 
the country, to discover and surprise the enemy in his 
stronghold. He tracks him out, follows him step by step, 
and, by different sounds, indicates the distance and species 
of the creature he is pursuing. In vain the enemy opposes 
cunning to sagacity, and employs all the resources of its 
instinct to make the pursuer lose the scent ; in vain it tries 
to substitute another victim. The dog rarely misses the 
object of his pursuit, discovering by the scent all the wind- 
ings of the labyrinth ; and, after having triumphed over 
cunning, he succeeds at last in finding the object of the 
search. 

" When education has brought this natural talent to per- 
fection in the domesticated dog ; when he has been taught 
to moderate his ardour, and regulate his movements ; when 
he becomes accustomed to a kind discipline, necessary in 



THE DOG. 323 

the chase, he then hunts with skill, and almost always with 
success. 

"The dog, independently of the beauty of his form, 
vivacity, strength, and lightness, possesses, in an eminent 
degree, all those qualities which are likely to attract the 
regard of man. A nature ardent and choleric — nay, even 
ferocious and sanguinary — renders the wild dog terrible to 
all the animals. This, in the domestic dog, gives place to 
the gentler dispositions, the pleasure of attaching itself, and 
the desire of pleasing. He comes, humbly, to lay at his 
master's feet his courage, strength, and talents ; he awaits 
his commands to put them in force ; consults, interrogates, 
and supplicates him. A look is sufficient : he comprehends 
wishes by signs. Without possessing, like man, the light 
of reason, the dog has warmth of feeling, fidelity, and 
constancy in his affections. He has neither ambition 
nor interested motives, and no fear but that of dis- 
pleasing. He is all zeal, ardour, and obedience. More 
apt to remember benefits than outrages, he does not re- 
taliate when badly treated; he submits, forgets, or only 
remembers in order to become more attached. Far from 
resenting or trying to escape from injury, he licks the 
hand which has given the blow, only uttering piteous 
cries, and finally, by his patience and submission, disarming 
our anger. 

"More docile and more yielding than any other 
animal, not only can the dog be instructed in a short time, 
but he will even conform to the habits and manners of 
those around him — taking the tone, so to speak, of the 
house in which he lives. Like other domestics, he is lofty 
amongst great folks, and rustic when in the country; 
always zealous for his master, and knowing, by instinct, 

v 2 



324 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

who are his friends. He pays no attention to indifferent 
people, and shows antipathy to those whom he considers 
intruders, knowing them by their clothes, voice, and 
gestures. 

" While guarding the house at night, he becomes more 
fierce, sometimes even ferocious. He watches, and goes 
his rounds ; scents strangers afar off, and, if they stop, or 
try to leap the fence, he rushes at them, and, by continual 
barking or growling, gives the alarm. As mrious against 
men as against animals, he throws himself upon thieves, 
wounds and maims them, taking from them what they are 
about to carry off. Not content with having conquered, he 
reposes beside the recovered spoil, without touching it, 
even to satisfy his hunger ; thus giving, at the same time, 
examples of courage, fidelity, and temperance. 

" Let us suppose, for a moment, that the dog had not 
existed. How, then, could man have conquered, subdued, 
and brought into bondage the other animals ? How could 
we, in the present day, discover, hunt, and destroy savage 
beasts ? To insure our own safety, and render ourselves 
masters of the animal creation, we must commence by 
gaining over a party among the animals themselves, con- 
ciliating those capable of obedience and attachment by 
mildness and caresses, so as to form an opposing party to 
the others. The first effort of man has been, then, the 
education of the dog, the fruits of which are the conquest 
and peaceable possession of the earth." 

To this comprehensive description we will add some 
very interesting observations by George Leroy. This 
animal, says he, is so well known, that his example alone 
would make us reject all idea of a merely mechanical 
action in beasts. How, indeed, could we attribute to an 



THE DOG. 325 

instinct destitute of reflection the various actions of this 
intelligent animal? It is not only useful to man, but, 
in subjection, preserves a rational liberty, exciting in his 
master tender emotions of interest and attachment, by a 
voluntary docility. According to the different methods in 
which we employ the dog, we can trace the progress of his 
intelligence in two different ways. One is due to the 
instruction he receives — that is to say, the habits we force 
him to adopt by the alternative of pain or pleasure. The 
other kind of progress must be ascribed to the animal's 
own experience, his reflections on the facts he remarks and 
the sensations he experiences. 

The dog of the farm-yard, nearly always tied up, charged 
solely with the task of barking at strangers, remains in a 
state of feeble intelligence. 

The sheep-dog, continually occupied in an office which 
calls forth the voice and teaching of his master, shows 
more spirit and discernment. All the facts relating to his 
work become established in his memory. This knowledge 
enables him to combine circumstances which guide him in 
details and modify his actions and movements. 

If the flock pass near some corn, you see the vigilant 
guardian gather them together, and lead them away from 
the grain, which must be protected, keeping his eye on 
those who would trespass, overawing the rash by move- 
ments which terrify them, and chastising the obstinate, to 
which no warnings are of any avail. Do we not recognise 
reason as the origin of this variety of movements, made 
with so much discernment ? If the dog had not learned to 
distinguish the grain from the ordinary pasture of the flock, 
how could he know that it was not to be eaten ? Does he 
know that his motions must be adapted to the habits of the 



326 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

sheep ? If unacquainted with these habits, then his conduct 
seems to be without motive. 

But it is principally in the chase that we must follow 
this animal, to see the development of his intelligence. The 
chase is natural to the dog, which is a carnivorous animal. 
Thus man, in using it for this exercise, only modifies and 
turns to account an aptitude and taste which nature has 
bestowed upon the animal for its preservation. There are, 
then, in the actions of the dog, the combined results of 
education and nature ; the former arising from strokes of 
the whip, the latter from his disposition ; one or both of 
these two elements being more or less perceivable, according 
to the circumstances which afford the animal more or less 
activity. 

Nature is displayed more freely in the hound than in 
other dogs. The habit of subjection makes him attentive 
to the movements of those who lead him, up to a certain 
point ; but as he is not always under their hands, his 
own intelligence must act for itself; and the animal's 
experience often rectifies the judgment of the huntsman. 
The undivided attention the dogs give to the chase, the 
guidance of the animal which is let loose first to train 
them, and the chastisement they receive when they are on 
a wrong track, accustom them by degrees to distinguish by 
the scent the stag which is before them from all other 
creatures. But the deer, wearied by the pursuit, seeks to 
join his companions, and then a more exquisite discernment 
on the part of the dog becomes necessary. In this case 
nothing must be expected from the young ones. It belongs 
only to trained experience to exercise a prompt and sure 
judgment in this difficulty. It is only the old dogs which are 
undaunted, and pick out without hesitation the path their 



THE DOG. 327 

stag has taken through that of the other animals by which 
he is accompanied. Those which are yet inexperienced 
afford to the attentive huntsman a spectacle of uncertainty, 
and yet of activity, which merits observation. They are 
seen to waver and exhibit signs of hesitation. They place 
their noses to the ground most diligently, or else raise them 
to the branches, where the contact of the body of the 
animal in its passage would leave a stronger smell, and 
they are only at last determined by the voice of the 
huntsman, in whom they repose the same confidence that 
he himself has in the more experienced and practised dogs. 
If the hounds, for a moment carried away by ardour, over- 
step the track, and are about to lose it, the leaders of the 
pack take upon themselves to find it, by the only means 
men can employ. They go backwards and forwards, search- 
ing for the trace which has escaped them. The diligence 
of the huntsman could go no further, and in this case even 
the experienced dog seems often to be at his wits' end to 
find the means leading to success. 

The setter has still more intimate and close relations 
with man. He hunts always under his eye, and nearly 
^always under his hand. It is true happiness for this dog 
to take the game to his master. He is caressed if he does 
well, reproved and chastised if he does badly. His joy or 
grief breaks forth in either case, and there is established 
between man and dog an interchange of services, mutual 
gratitude, and attachment 

When the setter is young, but already rendered docile 
by strokes of the whip, he listens to the voice of his 
master only, and follows his orders with precision. But 
when he is older and more experienced, and guided in 
all he does by a sagacity more subtle and certain, he 



328 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

does not always show the same docility, althougn in 
general it may have become habitual with him. If, for 
example, the game is wounded, and the old and ex- 
perienced dog is sure of finding the track, he does not 
allow himself to be turned from the pursuit by his master, 
who calls and threatens in vain. He knows he is serving 
him by his disobedience ; and the caresses which follow 
success soon teach him that he ought in such cases to 
disobey. It is generally the custom with experienced 
sportsmen to lead the young dogs, and leave the old 
ones to do as they please. Every one can gain for him- 
self experience with regard to this animal, which we can 
train at will, by the discipline of pleasure or pain ; which 
attaches itself to man, and receives his lessons, but which, 
in cases where he feels his own experience will guide him 
more surely, opposes his will to that of his master, and 
resists unhesitatingly the power of habit and fear of blows. 

It is more than probable that we owe a great part 
of the docility and subjection of the dog to a very long 
course of training, continued through many generations ; 
at least, it is quite certain that some acquired qualities of 
animals are transmitted by birth. The habit of acting in 
certain ways modifies without doubt the organisation itself, 
and this, being perpetuated, becomes natural. There are 
few animals that cannot be tamed up to a certain point, 
by alternations of pleasure and pain. Those which Nature 
appears to have removed farthest from our influence — 
which she has endowed with the surest instruments of 
liberty, such as birds of prey, submit to the yoke which 
want imposes on every being who feels it, and in a little 
time acquire a docility which is astonishing. We see 
them high in the air, obeying the call of the falconer, 



THE DOG. 329 

and allowing themser/es to be guided by his movements, 
repeated experience having taught them that docility 
would surely conduct them to the prey. It is impossible 
to attribute to instinct alone — that is to say, to a blind and 
unreflecting impulse — those actions in animals in which 
their instinct is in a manner unnatural. We can assign 
no cause for some of their proceedings, unless by supposing 
them to have the power of reflecting on facts. The educa- 
tion of animals, without reflection, would be as incompre- 
hensible as that of man without liberty. All education, 
however simple it may be, necessarily supposes the power 
of deliberating and choosing. 

Adrian Leonard, author of a work on the education of 
animals, has studied the intelligence of dogs in connection 
with the formation of their skulls, and has divided them 
into the following classes : — 

In the first class he places the dogs having large fore- 
heads and projecting temples, showing a great development 
of brain. Such are spaniels, water-spaniels, hounds, terriers, 
and setters. All these dogs have drooping ears. 

The second class comprises the mastiffs and harriers, 
gifted with less intelligence, and sense of smell less de- 
veloped. Their foreheads are narrow, temples receding, 
noses long, and ears half pendant. 

In the third class are the dogs with shortened noses, the 
skull rising little, and intelligence but feebly developed. 
Such are the different varieties of bull-dog and curs. 

Leonard affirms, from his own experience, that the dogs 
whose intelligence is most easily developed are the setters, 
the eyes of which are most expressive, the movements 
quick, without violence, and the gait firm, with graceful- 
ness. This author says that he has been able, by a certain 



S3° THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

method, to make the dogs do all that he wished, even when 
commanding the most opposite things. He would say to 
them, " Lie down," and then stopping them suddenly, 
command them to come to him, saying, " Be merry," 
then, an instant after, " Be sorrowful ;" putting a piece of 
bread before Brag, and saying, " This is for Dash; " 
then a second piece before Dash, with "This is for 
Brag;" then leaving the two pieces for some time before 
them, he would say, at length, " Eat it," and neither would 
mistake the piece placed before him for that intended for 
him. In these cases there was evidently an exercise of 
intelligence. The animals must necessarily have compared 
the different commands. For example, the dogs must have 
reasoned thus : " The piece placed before me is not in- 
tended for me, but that put before my companion. They 
tell me to eat ; I must not mistake, lest I get punished." 
Evidently the animal has thought all this, and reasoning 
thus implies exercise of the intellectual faculties. 

M. Emile de Tarade has become so thoroughly con- 
vinced of the intellectual aptitude of the dog, that he has 
just written a work on the means by which we can cultivate 
the intelligence of this animal. According to this author, a 
dog is not thoroughly instructed until he does everything 
that is told him, even in the absence of his master. Other- 
wise they are much in the same case as the dog Munito, 
who, notwithstanding his apparent cleverness, really knew 
nothing. " I followed his experiments," said M. Tarade, 
" until I discovered the solution of the enigma. Munito 
was placed in a circle, formed of large cards, on which were 
drawn letters or figures of various colours. Having a fine 
sense of hearing, he was quick in detecting the slight noise 
that his master (an Italian) made with his nail or toothpick, 



THE DOG. 331 

although the hand which gave the signal was concealed in 
the pocket. And the so-called learned dog walked round 
the circle, apparently reflecting, and stopped before the 
card desired by his master." Munito was frequently 
rewarded by receiving some bread and meat. M. Tarade 
calls this performance mere juggling. He protests against 
this manner of developing intelligence, which is, in fact, 
but the effect of obedience and subjection, and not a 
discipline of the intellectual faculties. He indicates a 
rapid and sure method of teaching a dog the use of words 
in their application to common objects. A dog, sufficiently 
exercised, ought to know letters, figures, colours, and 
furniture. He ought to be clear on the meaning of the 
prepositions — over, under, before, behind — and should be 
able to contrast ! 

The choice of a dog clearly depends on the use we 
desire to make of him. If you want a watch-dog, take a 
mastiff; you will find in him strength, courage, great 
attachment, and sufficient intelligence. A setter is best 
adapted for hunting on land ; the spaniel for water-fowl. 
These two dogs are the most intelligent and most sus- 
ceptible of education. The terrier, with its crooked legs, 
and pace thus deprived of fleetness, afford the rabbit some 
opportunities of resting, and is excellent for hunting this 
game. Coursing necessarily requires the employment of 
the greyhound, but there is not much to be done with him 
in the way of education, his intelligence being very limited. 
The formation of the brain, the lengthened skull, and 
receding form of the fore part of the head, may well be the 
cause, physiologically, of this inaptitude in the greyhound 
for a high course of education. This dog can only be em- 
ployed with success in the chase to hunt the hare, espe- 



332 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

cially in level countries. These dogs have excellent sight, 
but their scent is, comparatively, very bad ; so that the 
least thicket which hides the prey from sight makes them 
lose it immediately. 

To the advice given by M. Tarade respecting the choice 
of a dog for education, we will add the following passage, 
borrowed from Montaigne : " Sportsmen assure us that, in 
order to make choice of a puppy from amongst a number 
of others, it is better to leave the choice to the mother 
herself. In carrying them back to their bed, the first she 
takes up will always be the best. If we pretend to set 
fire to the bed on all sides, then the one she will try to 
rescue first. By this we learn that the mothers have a faculty 
of prognostication, which we do not possess, in respect to 
their little ones." 

History abounds with facts attesting the intelligence 
and devotion of dogs. One author, speaking of them, 
says, "As to their friendship, it is much warmer and more 
constant than that of man." In confirmation of this 
opinion, he relates the story of " Hyrcanus," the dog of 
King Lysimachus. " His master having died, he persisted 
in remaining on his bed, neither eating nor drinking. The 
day having arrived for burning the body, the dog fol- 
lowed the corpse, and throwing himself into the fire, was 
burned. A dog belonging to one named Pyrrhus never 
moved from its master's bed when he lay dead, and allowed 
itself to be carried away with the corpse, and finally jumped 
into the funeral pile where the body of its master was 
burned." 

Montaigne gives several other examples of the fidelity 
of dogs, amongst others that of a dog which guarded a 
temple at Athens. This animal having perceived a thief 



THE DOG. 333 

carrying off the finest of the jewels, barked loudly at him, 
but without being able to wake the keepers. Despairing of 
taking the thief, he followed him all night. At daybreak 
he went more slowly, but without losing sight of the 
robber, whose offered food was rejected. The dog made 
friends with the passers-by, and took food from their hands. 
If the thief stopped to rest, the dog remained near him. 
These facts having come to the ears of the temple-keepers, 
they went in search of the dog, asking what road they had 
taken. At length they found him and the thief at the town 
of Cromyon, whence the robber was conducted to Athens, 
where he was punished. The judges, as a reward to the 
dog, ordered him to be supplied with a certain allowance of 
food daily at the public expense, and recommended him to 
the care of the priests ! 

In 1803 a society was founded for the suppression of 
theft. A bloodhound was procured and trained to track 
out criminals. In order to test the utility of this new 
employment of the dog, a thief was let loose, about ten 
o'clock in the morning, from a place where there was a 
great concourse of people. An hour afterwards the dog 
was sent in pursuit of the fugitive. At the end of the 
chase, which lasted an hour and a half, the bloodhound 
found the man, hidden in a tree, several miles from the 
place. 

It is evident that it is by the keenness and certainty of 
his sight a dog is able to track a man or animal • but he 
does not the less exercise reflection and intelligence when, 
having discovered the object of his search, he begins to 
bark, and will not leave him. 

A domestic, discharged from the service of a gentleman, 
hid himself in the stables of his master during the night, 



334 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

and in revenge cut off the ears and tail of a favourite 
hunter. The dogs gave the alarm within an hour, and a 
bloodhound being introduced into the stables, immediately 
set out in pursuit. Having followed the track of the man 
for more than twenty miles, the animal stopped at the door 
of a house, whence it was impossible to entice him. Having 
succeeded in getting in, he went up-stairs, and pushing 
furiously against the door of the garret, he found the object 
of his search. The servant being in bed, the dog seized 
him immediately, and would have torn him to pieces, but, 
fortunately, the master had not lost sight of the movements 
of the animal, and hastened to the rescue. 

After such remarkable facts, it is not astonishing that in 
some counties they have endeavoured to make use of the 
dog to aid the police in the towns and country by tracking 
criminals. 

It has been objected that it is dangerous to entrust the 
dog with such functions, on account of the violence of his 
character ; but the true English hound rarely bites those 
whom he pursues. He only tracks them to their -hiding- 
places, and then, by loud barkings, indicates the place 
where they are hidden. 

These facts prove most clearly that dogs might be 
employed in the present day for the public protection of 
towns and villages. 

Dr. Franklin relates the following very singular story of 
a dog, known by the name of " Peeler :" — - 

THE POLICEMAN'S DOG. 

A few years ago, a policeman was killed at Kingstown, 
near Dublin, under very mysterious circumstances. A little, 



THE DOG. 335 

sharp, active dog, of the spaniel breed, would go in and 
out of the chamber where the body was lying each day, 
and seemed to take a personal interest in the inquest. The 
conduct of the dog occasioned some surprise, and one of 
the magistrates questioned the inspector to whom the dog 
belonged. "Oh!" replied the officer; "do you not 
know? I thought everybody knew Peeler, the police- 
man's dog." He then told the history of the dog, which 
is as follows : — Some years ago, poor little Peeler had 
tempted the appetite of an enormous dog of the Mount 
St. Bernard or Newfoundland breed, the giant — I may say 
the ogre — of his race. The unhappy spaniel ran great risk 
of being served up and devoured at the breakfast of his 
Canine Majesty, Gargantua of the Snows, when a policeman 
interfered, and, with a blow of his staff, laid low the strong 
and released the weak. From that moment Peeler enter- 
tained unlimited respect and gratitude towards policemen. 
Where they went he went, or, rather, followed them. He 
mounted guard with them, and relieved by his presence the 
weariness of a long beat, or, better still, aided his friends 
in arresting the disturbers of the public peace. Peeler 
constituted himself chief-inspector of police. He went 
from one station to another ; and when he had visited 
one district of a town, continued his rounds to the other 
quarters. He has been seen to enter a first-class carriage 
on the Kingstown Railway, to go to Blackrock. There he 
visited the police-station ; continued his tour of inspection ; 
waited the arrival of the train, and went everywhere to 
observe the inhabitants. Having assured himself that" all 
was in good order, he returned, by another train in the 
evening, to Kingstown. 

But Peeler had also his antipathies as well as his attach- 



336 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

ments. There was one man especially for whom he 
manifested extreme repugnance. One day, meeting him 
in a railway carriage, he got out and waited for the follow- 
ing train, preferring to submit to half an hour's delay rather 
than subject himself to such companionship. 

His partiality for policemen was extraordinary. When- 
ever he met a man in the uniform of a constable he 
expressed his joy by leaping and walking beside him. He 
even recognised and saluted them when dressed in plain 
clothes, but, of course, these were his old acquaintances. 
Thus sought after by this devoted animal, the guardians 
of the peace in the city of London did not treat him with 
less kindness and affection. Wherever Peeler appeared, 
he received a crust of bread, a friendly tap on the head 
or stroke on the back. 

As Peeler loved policemen during their lives, he did not 
forget them when they were dead. Finally, we find him 
assisting at the funeral of Daly, the policeman who was 
killed at Kingstown. 

THE SHOEBLACK'S DOG. — OTHER EXAMPLES. 

People when they go out in the streets like to appear 
clean and neat, and especially are careful to have their 
boots nicely polished. An Englishman was crossing one 
of the bridges over the Seine, in Paris, when he was met by 
a poodle-dog, which, rubbing its muddy paws over his dainty 
boots, completely effaced their brilliant polish. Seeing a 
shoeblack stationed on the bridge, he went to have the 
outrage repaired. The same misadventure happening to 
him the next day, and on several others in succession, the 
curiosity of the Englishman was excited, and he observed 



THE DOG. 



337 



the dog attentively. He saw him go towards the Seine, 
dip his paws in the mud by the side of the river, then go 
on to the bridge to await the arrival of any well-dressed 
person upon whose boots he might rub his paws. Dis- 
covering that the dog belonged to the shoeblack, the gen- 
tleman questioned the latter very closely. After some 




The Shoeblack's Dog. 



moments of hesitation, the man owned that he had trained 
his dog to this exercise in order to procure customers. 
"Ah, Monsieur," added he, "trade is so bad!" The gen- 
tleman, struck with the sagacity of the dog, bought him, 
and brought him to London. The new master having kept 
the animal tied up for some time, at length allowed him 
to run loose ; the dog only stayed with him a day or two, 

w 



33& 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



and then made his escape. A fortnight after he was found 
with his first master, pursuing his old occupation on one 
of the bridges of Paris ! 

Julian Scaliger and the " History of Montargis " have 

handed down to us the 
touching story of the dog 
of Aubrey de Montdi- 
dier. This story, the 
events of which oc- 
curred in the time of 
Charles V., is so well 
known, that we deem 
it unnecessary to re- 
peat it here. 

" In 1660," says Son- 
nini, " all Paris might 
have seen a dog which 
remained for several 
years near the tomb of 
its master in the Ceme- 
tery of the Innocents, 
and from which nothing 
could remove it. Se- 
veral times they carried 
it away to the extremity 
of the city, and shut 
the creature up ; but as 
soon as it was let loose it returned to the post of 
its constant affection, notwithstanding the severity of the 
winter. The inhabitants of the neighbourhood, touched 
by its constancy and perseverance, used to carry it some 
food j but the poor animal seemed only to eat enough 




The Dog at the Convent Door. 



THE DOG. 339 

to prolong his sufferings, and afford an example of heroic 
fidelity." 

At the time of the Revolution, when many scenes of 
blood were being witnessed at Brotteaux, a dog followed 
his master who was condemned to be shot. After the 
execution the dog laid himself upon the corpse, obstinately 
refusing to be separated from it; and, rejecting all nourish- 
ment, died some days after. 

Everybody knows the story of the French dog which, 
having seen beggars ring the bell at the door of the convent 
and receive some soup, began to ring also, in order to 
receive a ration. 

We will give another proof of canine sagacity and 
gratitude. A surgeon found a dog with its paw broken ; 
he carried the animal home, reduced the fracture, and set 
him at liberty. Some months after, he was not a little 
astonished to see the animal he had succoured enter his 
house, accompanied by another dog, which had also a 
fractured paw ! 

THE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. 

Everybody has heard of the intelligence and devotion 
of the Alpine spaniels, which, on the lofty mountains of 
the Alps, go in search of travellers overtaken by the snow. 

The monks of Mount St. Bernard, the hospitable 
inhabitants of those icy and nearly inaccessible mountains, 
do not fail to send every day, during the winter, a servant, 
accompanied by two dogs, to meet the travellers from the 
side of Vaiais, as far as St. Pierre. The dogs follow the 
track of the traveller who has lost his way ; they find him, 
bring him to the monastery, and rescue him from inevitable 
death. 



340 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

We will relate an anecdote of a Newfoundland dog, 
borrowed from the Bulletin of the Society for the Protection 
of Animals : — " An individual, whom, from regard to his 
honour, we forbear to name, had an old Newfoundland dog, 
which, for economy's sake, he wished to get rid of, to save 
the dog tax. This man, with a view of executing his cruel 
design, led his old servant to the banks of the Seine, tied 
his paws together with string, and rolled him off the barge 
into the current. The dog, in struggling, contrived to break 
his bonds, and managed, with great difficulty, to climb the 
steep bank of the river, where he arrived, almost breathless. 
Here his unworthy master awaited him with a stick. He 
repulsed the animal, and struck at him violently ; but, in the 
effort, lost his balance and fell into the river. He would 
have been drowned most assuredly, had not his dog been 
more humane than himself. But the animal, faithful to 
the natural mission of his race, and forgetting in a moment 
the treatment he had just received, jumped into the water, 
from which he had only just escaped, to rescue his would-be 
executioner from death. He did not accomplish this task 
without much difficulty ; and both returned home — the 
one meekly rejoicing at having accomplished his good deed 
and obtained favour, the other disarmed and, let us hope, 
repentant." 

THE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG AND THE MASTIFF. 

We have yet another anecdote, proving the excellence 
of disposition in the Newfoundland dog. A dog of this 
race and a mastiff detested each other. Every day pro- 
duced fresh battles between them. But it happened that, 
in one of these terrible and prolonged combats on the jetty 



THE DOG. 341 

of Donaghadee, they both fell into the sea. The jetty was 
long and steep ; they had no other means of escape but 
that of swimming, and the distance was considerable. The 
Newfoundland, being a good swimmer, managed to reach 
the shore without much difficulty. He landed dripping 
wet, and began shaking himself. A moment after, he saw 
that his late antagonist was exhausting himself in struggling 
against the waves, and was just on the point of sinking. 
The Newfoundland was moved with a feeling of generosity : 
he flung himself again into the water, seized the mastiff by 
the collar, and holding his head above the water, brought 
him safe and sound to land. This happy deliverance was 
followed by a scene between these two animals that was 
truly touching. They never fought again, and were always 
seen together. The Newfoundland, being at last crushed 
beneath a wagon loaded with stones, the other dog was 
for a long time inconsolable. 

VAILLANT. 

In his work on the education of the dog, M. de Tarade 
relates an incident recently told by M. Leonce Guine. Two 
children, of the ages of twelve and fifteen — the age with 
little pity — came to a part of the Seine, level with the Rue 
de la Grande-Arche, to drown a poor and blind dog, half 
dead with hunger and old age. He had become useless 
as a servant, and they were about to dismiss him in the 
usual manner — they would drown him, to spare him the 
sufferings of desertion and hunger ! What could be more 
reasonable? Is it not thus that domestic animals are 
generally treated when they become good for nothing ? It 
was with malicious pleasure and cruel joy that these 



342 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



children had thrown the poor animal into the midst of the 
waves. Not content with this, the little murderers pelted 
their victim with a shower of stones. His piteous howlings 
and cries of despair, far from moving their compassion, 
only excited their cruel mirth. By low moaning at inter- 




Vaillant rescuing the Blind Dog. 



vals, they learned, to their great satisfaction, that the poor 
dog was wounded by their missiles. " I was about to close 
my window," says M. Guine, "so as to shut out this painful 
sight — amusing, no doubt, to the idle and worthless, though 
much opposed to the usually humane character of the 



THE DOG. 



343 



Parisians — when suddenly I heard loud shouts and great 
clapping of hands from the mob who were diverting them- 
selves with this brutal spectacle. I looked, and perceived 
with some surprise my dog Vaillant, who, attracted by 
the mournful cries of one of his own species, had jumped 
into the river, and was swimming towards him. He went 
through the water with incredible activity. His joyful cries, 
and the direction he was taking, at once convinced me of 
the animal's intentions — Vaillant was hastening to the 
rescue ! 

"The poor blind dog, guessing that unexpected help 
was at hand, seemed to renew his efforts for life. A few 
more struggles brought him to Vaillant. The latter, well 
knowing the danger of the task he had undertaken, raised 
his hind-quarters in such a manner that the poor drowning 
beast could cling securely with his front paws, without inter- 
fering too much with his own movements. He then began 
to swim vigorously towards the shore. His efforts were 
crowned with success. In a few minutes he was on terra 
firma, proudly shaking his fine coat, while his companion 
fell exhausted at his side. My dog's devotion, however, did 
not stop there. The children, who had not reckoned upon 
this unexpected rescue, and who still wished to indulge 
themselves with the spectacle of a drowning dog, tried to 
drive him away with a stick, but, in approaching him, they 
were so terrified by the sight of his flashing eyes and the 
two rows of formidable white teeth which he displayed in his 
fury, that they were forced to renounce their intention, and 
retrace their steps. This action on the part of Vaillant 
did not surprise me much, because he is an affectionate 
animal, as well as very intelligent ; but the spectators, who 
did not know him so well as I, loaded him with so many 



344 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

caresses, that I feared he would adopt the same means to 
get rid of their importunities that he had taken to drive 
away the two boys. I therefore put an end to the general 
enthusiasm, and preserved the calves of the most eager 
from the marks of his teeth, by calling Vaillant to me. 
For the first time, I may say, the docile animal refused to 
obey my call. I soon comprehended his motive : he was 
not willing to leave his protege to the mercy of his enemies. 
At my request, one of the mob took the poor blind dog on 
his shoulder, it being still too weak to drag itself along, and 
carried it to my dog's bed. It was only on this condition 
that the latter could be induced to steal away from the 
ovation of the crowd, in order to pay to his guest the 
honours of the kennel." 

BRILLANT. 

Another hero of the canine race has for some time, so 
Ulndependance Beige relates, ceased to fulfil any of the 
functions usually assigned to dogs by their masters. Bril- 
lant has risen in rank ; he has cleared, at one bound, the 
distance between the kennel and the office; from being 
simply the guardian of the night, he has become messenger, 
factotum, confidential servant. With a little arithmetic and 
literature, he might become an accountant, perhaps secre- 
tary. Every morning Master Brillant, with head raised, 
and his basket suspended jauntily between his teeth, makes 
his first visit to the baker, who, on account of his good 
conduct and discretion, does not hesitate to give him his 
master's bread. Various other errands wait his return ; and 
the zealous "commissionaire," always provided with his 
basket, goes successively, and simply by a verbal indication, 
to the grocer, the fruiterer, and the public-house, whence he 



THE DOG. 345 

brings a bottle filled which he had taken empty. A little 
later in the day he is the courier of his master ; and it is 
most amusing and interesting to see him, with one or two 
letters in his mouth, standing on his hind legs, just below 
the letter-box of the General Post-office, one of his paws 
supporting him against the wall, the other pulling the dress 
of a passer-by or the postman to attract their attention, and 
then, by gestures, begging them to put the letters into the 
box, the opening of which he is not able to reach. And all 
these feats of memory, discernment, and reasoning, so to 
speak, are accomplished by this intelligent animal with 
perfect order and punctuality, without being led or directed, 
except by signs, and without making any mistake in the 
different commissions with which he is entrusted. 



MOFFINO. 

Everybody at Milan knows the history, for it is not 
simply a story, of the spaniel Moffino. This dog followed 
his master, who belonged to the corps of Prince Eugene 
Beauharnais, on the occasion of the disastrous expedition 
into Russia in 1812. At the passage of the Beresina these 
two faithful companions were separated by the masses of 
ice which floated down the river, and the Milanese corporal 
returned to his native city full of sorrow and regret, not on 
account of his wounds, but for the loss of his poor dog, 
which had shared with him so much misery and suffering. 
A year passed by, and the soldier, in the midst of his 
family, had almost forgotten the object of his regret. One 
day, however, the people of the house were surprised by 
the arrival of the spectre of an animal that might formerly 
have been a dog, but which now scarcely deserved the 



346 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



name. It was something truly hideous that they tried to 
drive away without pity, notwithstanding the mournful cries 
of the poor beast. At this moment the ex-corporal returned 
from a walk, and saw advancing towards him, with joyful 
bounds, this wretched quadruped, which licked his feet, 
uttering at the same time low whinings. He repulsed it 




Moffino's return from Russia. 



roughly, and was about to deprive this singular visitor of 
the little life that appeared to be remaining, when a sudden 
thought occurring to him, he examined certain marks on it 
with attention, indications of which caused him much joy. 
He pronounced the name " Mofnno," and the animal jumped 
up immediately, barking joyfully, and then fell down, ex- 
hausted with hunger, fatigue — perhaps, one might say, with 



THE DOG. 347 

emotion. His master, who now recognised his lost dog, 
hastened to his assistance, succoured him tenderly, and 
saved him from death. 

This journey over more than the half of Europe, under- 
taken by an animal without any guide but his wonderful 
instinct, the mountains and rivers crossed by this feeble 
creature in search of his master, at the price of terrible 
sufferings, is a great lesson for the generality of mankind. 

the fishing-dog, or the spaniel of the "cordeliers 
d'etampes." 

We find, in the " History d'Etampes," the feats and 
doings, not of a learned dog like Munito, of whom we have 
already spoken — one applauded for useless talents — but of 
a spaniel as useful as clever, and which, during several 
years, was the purveyor of the "Peres Cordeliers."* His 
dexterity in fishing for crabs deserves to be recorded. It 
has been the subject of a Latin poem, composed, in 17 14, 
by Claude Charles Hemard de Danjouan, a young inhabitant 
of d'Etampes. Many a capital dinner did the fishing-dog 
provide for the friars, to whom he brought, not only crabs, 
but various fish, captured with no small trouble, and great 
dexterity. 

the dogs of boisville-la-st. pere. 

We shall end these remarks on the dog by the story of 
two sporting-dogs, which may claim a place in our work. 
This narrative was told by M. Baumer, a locksmith of 

* A branch of the Grey Friars, so called from their girdle made of 
cords. 



348 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 



Angerville. One fine morning, the butcher of Boisville-la- 
St. Pere, wishing to have a feast, said to his wife, "lam 
going to kill a rabbit." He set out, according to his usual 
custom, with his two dogs — male and female. These 
animals were almost mad with joy ; they jumped, frisked, 
barked, ran forward, and then back again to their master. 




The Fishing-dog. 

Threats and kicks could not subdue their ardour, nor quiet 
their tumult. The sportsman went towards a wood situated 
near the village. Having arrived there, the poor butcher, 
for some reason not explained, mounted a tree, and, in 
order to climb more easily, took his gun-strap between his 
teeth. He had scarcely reached the lower branches, when, 
one of them touching the trigger, the gun went off, and the 



THE DOG. 349 

imprudent hunter, receiving all the contents, fell bathed in 
blood. His poor dogs then began to howl most piteously. 
Only a few distant woodmen heard their cries ; night was 
coming on — what could they do ? Go away — abandon 
their master ? A servant might have done so ; a dog, 
never ! The two faithful creatures remained all night, 
without thinking one instant of eating or drinking. The 
morning found them still there, barking every now and 
then as if calling for help. As no one came, one of them 
returned to the village, while the other stayed by their 
master. He arrived at the house, and reassured every one 
by his presence. " When the dog arrives," said they, " the 
master is not far behind." They gave the poor animal 
some food, but, notwithstanding his long fast, he ate but 
little, looked at everybody wistfully, and then disappeared. 
They went out to ' see which direction it had taken. 
Just then the other dog arrived ; they caressed her, and 
gave her also something to eat. As soon as she had 
finished she went to one of the workmen in the house, 
looked at him wistfully, and pulling him by his blouse, 
seemed to say, " Follow me." Accordingly, they set out 
with her, which seemed to give her much satisfaction. She 
advanced eagerly, stopping from time to time to see if they 
were still following. As she approached the wood she 
slackened her pace, frequently looked behind her, and at 
last, on arriving, the poor animal walked gently and silently 
up to its master. The other dog was lying upon him, 
awaiting anxiously the return of its companion. Both 
began to lick their master's face, trying to awake him, and 
warn him that some one was near. The officers of justice 
being informed of the sad accident, went to the place in- 
dicated, recorded the death, and took away the corpse in a 



35° THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

carriage, the dogs following. Arrived at the house, they 
would not leave the body, but remained lying near it, 
howling mournfully. With much trouble, the people 
dragged them away into a barn ; but, far from being quiet, 
they uttered cries which were heart-rending. The unfor- 
tunate man being interred, the dogs were set at liberty. 
The cemetery of Boisville, like those of most villages, was 
not difficult of access. Our two poor dogs, by scent, soon 
discovered the grave of their master. They scratched a 
long time, and at last succeeded in finding the coffin, on 
which they were found lying the next morning. The 
villagers dragged them back to the barn, petted, caressed, 
gave them food, and used every means to console them : 
but nothing succeeded. They began howling again, refused 
all nourishment, and, three days afterwards, died of grief. 
What can exceed this touching proof of genuine affection 
and attachment? 



QUADRUMANA.* 

MONKEYS, ORANG-OUTANGS, CHIMPANZEES 

The Quadrumana, the feet of which are really formed like 
hands, are the creatures most closely resembling man. 
These animals, which Linnaeus calls " primates," to show 
their superiority over all others, are distinguished by the 
following characteristic resemblance to man : — Their teats 
are generally on the breast, and two in number ; the four 
thumbs are generally opposable to the other fingers, the 
thumbs of the hind feet being always so ; the brain, which 
is almost always provided with circumvolutions, has, like 
that of man, the olfactory lobes smaller than those of other 
animals. 

The Quadrumana consist of three principal families, the 
monkeys, the lemurs, and the apes. 

The monkeys, so various in species, so remarkable for 
the vivacity of their manners, and for the resemblance they 
bear to the human race, are spread over the Old Continent 
as well as the New, but their characteristics differ in each 
of these great portions of the globe. 

Bearing a greater resemblance to man than those of 
America, the monkeys of the old world have thirty-two 
teeth, disposed in the same order as in the human jaw. 

* A word signifying four-handed. 



354 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

They have the partition which separates the narrow nos- 
trils. The tail is not always endued with the power of 
grasping, being sometimes short, or even not visible at all. 
In this case they have, under the skin, a rudimentary bone, 
such as exists also in man.* 

The apes that approach nearest to man are the orang- 
outang of Borneo, the chimpanzee, the gorilla and kooloo- 
kamba of Western Africa, and the long-armed ape of the 
Indian continent and adjacent isles. 

* This bone is called the os coccygis. 



THE ORANG-OUTANG. 

THE ORANG-OUTANG AS A DOMESTIC— EATING AT TABLE. — 
COUNTERFEITING AN OLD MAN, A PREACHER. — UNFASTEN- 
ING HIS CHAIN, AND CARRYING IT ON HIS SHOULDERS. 

The orang-outang has a less facial angle* than the chim- 
panzee. This is the reason why most naturalists consider 
it as less intelligent than the latter. The orang-outang is 
commonly called " the wild man of the woods." It is of a 
reddish colour, more or less dark, and sometimes becomes 
very dark with age; its hair is long, but not thick; the 
lower and fore parts of the body are almost bare, as well 
as the ears and the face, which is black ; the head is 
covered with rather long hair. These creatures inhabit 
the Isles of Borneo, Sumatra, the Malay peninsula, and 
live in the depths of the forests. The orang-outang had 
been considered for some time as quite distinct from the 
pongo, but is now known to be the same animal, at two 
different periods of its life. The pongo is an adult of the 
orang species, of which young ones only have hitherto been 
brought to Europe.t 

In its wild state the orang-outang is alert, endowed with 
great strength, constantly clinging to the trees, in the midst 

* The slope of a line drawn from the chin to the forehead is called 
the facial angle. 

f It must not be forgotten that the name pongo has also been 
given both to the gorilla and the chimpanzee. 



356 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

of which it runs and leaps with extreme agility. On the 
ground the orang-outangs are grave and quiet, and have not 
that capricious or brutal petulance which characterises some 
quadrumana. The young have always shown much intelli- 
gence, gentleness of disposition, and remarkable sociability. 
They grow weary of solitude, but, nevertheless, do not like 
too many visitors. 

" These animals," says Frederic Cuvier, " acquire without 
difficulty all the actions to which their organisation is not 
opposed. This results from their confidence, docility, and 
their great facility 01 comprehension. After the first attempt 
they understand what is required of them ; that is to say, 
having performed the action shown them, they know they 
must repeat it themselves in the same manner. Thus they 
drink from a glass, eat with a fork or spoon, make use of a 
dinner-napkin, wait at table behind their master's chair .like 
a servant, and, it is said, can assist him to wine." 

Frederic Cuvier gives the account 01 an orang-outang 
which, in order to make its escape from a cage, mounted 
a chair and unfastened the door. He concludes, with 
reason, that these actions are the result of a superior 
intelligence and combination of ideas. 

Buffon tells us that he has seen this animal give its hand 
to the people who visited it, to show them out, walking 
gravely with them as one of themselves. "I have seen 
it," he adds, " sit down to table, unfold its dinner-napkin 
to wipe its mouth, make use of a spoon and fork in feeding 
itself, pour out its drink, jingle glasses when invited to do 
so, take a cup and saucer, bring them to table, putting in 
sugar, then pouring out the tea, leave it to get cold before 
drinking; and all this without any other direction than a sign 
or word from its master, and often entirely of its own accord." 



THE ORANG-OUTANG. 357 

It never hurts any one, always approaches them 
cautiously, and presents itself as if asking to be caressed. 

The orang-outang seen by M. Flourens in the Zoological 
Gardens did all these things. It was very gentle, extremely 
fond of being caressed, particularly by children, played with 
them, and tried to imitate all their actions. He knew 
perfectly well where to find the key belonging to the room 
in which he was lodged, how to put it into the lock and open 
the door. Sometimes they put the key on the chimney- 
piece. The orang-outang climbed to it, by means of a 
rope attached to the board, which served him for a swing. 
They tied a knot in the cord to make it shorter, which 
knot he managed to undo. He had no. v the impatience 
or petulance of the monkeys. His app£arance was sor- 
rowful, and his movements grave and measured. " One 
day," says M. Flourens, " I paid him a visit, accompanied 
by an illustrious old gentleman, who was a clever, shrewd 
observer. His somewhat peculiar costume, bent body, and 
slow, feeble walk at once attracted the attention of the 
young animal, who, while doing most complacently all 
that was required of him, kept his eyes fixed on the 
object of his curiosity. We were about leaving, when he 
approached his new visitor, and, with mingled gentleness 
and mischief, took the stick which he carried, and pretend- 
ing to lean upon it, rounding his shoulders, and slackening 
his pace, walked round the room, imitating the figure and 
gait of my old friend. He then gave him back the stick of 
his own accord, and we took our leave, convinced that he 
also knew how to observe." 

The orang-outang has been sometimes tamed in eastern 
countries, where the temperature suits its nature and habits. 
M. Coubasson had brought up a young ape of this family. 



358 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

The animal was so attached to the missionary, that wherevei 
he went it seemed desirous of following him. Every time 
the "father" had some religious service to perform, he 
was obliged to shut up the orang-outang in a room. One 
day, however, the animal made his escape, and followed his 
master into the church. There he quietly mounted to the top 
of the organ above the pulpit, where he remained until the 
sermon commenced. Then he slipped down slily to the 
front, and looking steadfastly at the preacher, began imitating 
his gestures in so droll a manner, that all the congrega- 
tion were seized with an irresistible desire to laugh. The 
father, surprised and confounded at this levity, severely 
reprimanded his inattentive audience. The rebuke was 
ineffectual. The congregation still appearing diverted, the 
preacher, in the warmth of his zeal, redoubled his efforts 
to engage their attention. The monkey imitated so cleverly 
the vehemence of this oratorical action, that the congrega- 
tion could no longer restrain their mirth, but burst out into 
continual peals of laughter. The father, now thoroughly 
vexed and angry, threatened his hearers with the wrath 
of heaven. At length a friend indicated with his finger 
the cause of this unseemly mirth, and the preacher began 
to laugh himself. The attendants then with some difficulty 
removed the ape which had thus abused his powers of 
imitation. 

Dr. Abel has written a curious account of the manners 
and habits of the orang-outang. We will quote only that 
part which relates to the intelligence of this animal. " The 
orang-outang," says he, " since his arrival at Java, has en- 
joyed full and perfect liberty, which he does not abuse, and 
makes no attempt whatever to escape. A day or two only 
before his departure for England, in the Casar, they judged 



THE ORANG-OUTANG. 359 

it prudent to put him in a cage, secured with bars of bamboo. 
This imprisonment made him furious. When he was placed 
in captivity he took hold of the bars, and shaking them 
violently, tried to break them in pieces ; but finding that 
the firmness of the fence would not yield to his efforts, 
he reflected that it would be better to try another way — 
by attacking each bar separately. Having discovered that 
one bar was not so strong as the others, he worked at it 
without ceasing until he had broken it, and then made his 
escape. On board the vessel they tried to confine him by 
means of a chain attached to a strong pole, but he managed 
to release himself, and ran off, dragging the chain after 
him. Finding that the length of this chain incommoded 
him, he rolled it up and threw it over his shoulder. He 
often repeated this manoeuvre, and when he found that 
the chain would not lie as he wished, he took it in his 
mouth. In the means he adopted to procure his food, 
he gave us still more reason to appreciate his talents and 
sagacity. He seemed very desirous of obtaining the tit-bits, 
kept out of his reach, showed great anger when they were 
withheld from him, and would pursue any one all round the 
vessel to obtain something nice. I rarely came on deck 
without some sweetmeats or fruit in my pocket, and in 
such case never escaped his vigilant eye. I sometimes 
tried to escape from him by mounting to the top of the 
mast, but was always anticipated in my flight. When 
climbing the shrouds with me, he always made sure of 
his position by placing one of his hands on my legs. 
During this time the rogue would try to pick my pockets. 
If he found it impossible to surprise me in this way, he 
would climb to a considerable height on the ropes, and 
then jump suddenly upon me; but if, guessing his inten- 



360 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

tion, I tried to descend, he would slide down the rope 
and meet me at the bottom of the shrouds. Sometimes 
I tied an orange to the end of a string, and let it down 
from the top of the mast on to the deck. Each time he 
attempted to seize it I drew it slowly towards me. Having 
been several times foiled in his attempts, he changed his 
tactics. Pretending not to care about having the orange, 
he retired to some distance, and, with well-feigned indiffer- 
ence, began to mount the rigging ; then, by means of a 
sudden leap, he seized the string which held the fruit. 
If it happened that he was again disappointed in his 
design by the quickness of my movements, he gave him- 
self up to despair, abandoned the attempt, and climbed 
into the rigging, uttering piercing cries. He was seen 
more than once at the door of his keeper's cabin sipping 
his coffee, nowise embarrassed by the presence of observers, 
and affecting a serio-comic air, which seemed like a carica- 
ture of human nature. 

" The monkeys which we had brought from Java gained 
but little of his attention when he was observed by persons 
on board ; but I had reason to suspect that he was not so 
indifferent to their society as he wished one to believe. I 
saw him one day on the mizenmast, playing stealthily with 
one of these young monkeys. Lying on his back, partly 
concealed by the sail, he regarded with much gravity the 
gambols of the little creature which frolicked around him. 
At last he caught it by the tail, and began wrapping it up in 
his covering. This mode of subjection was not in accord- 
ance with the taste of our mischievous little fellow, who 
made his escape, and recommenced his gambols. Although 
caught several times, it always managed to get away. The 
intei course between orang-outang and monkey is not always 



THE ORANG-OUTANG. 36 1 

that of equality ; for the former never condescended to play 
with this little creature as he did with the cabin-boys of the 
vessel. Several times these monkeys were seen in ambus- 
cade, or creeping furtively round him, without his responding 
to their advances. Such are the facts," adds Dr. Abel, 
" of which we were witnesses during an intercourse of several 
months with this animal. I have written from my own ob- 
servation during the voyage from Java to England. Since 
the ape's arrival in Great Britain he has acquired, to my 
knowledge, two accomplishments which he had not learned 
on board ship, where, I must own, his education was much 
neglected. One is to walk upright, at least, on his hind feet, 
without supporting himself with his hands ; the second is to 
kiss his keeper." Some writers affirm that the orang-outang 
gives real kisses, and they suppose that it is a natural action 
of the animal. This seems to be a mistake ; it is an acquired 
act. Certain naturalists have denied the superiority of in- 
telligence in the orang-outang over that of the domestic dog. 
They draw certain inferences from the anatomy of the ape, 
saying, for example, that the cerebral mass of the brain of 
the orang-outang is not in accordance with the actions of 
the animal. Dr. Franklin remarks, with reason, that the 
orang-outang is a wild animal, or nearly so, taken suddenly 
from his native climate, habits, forest life, and natural 
element. In a state of captivity its faculties, far from 
acquiring a high degree of development, must often become 
feeble. But the orang-outang, without being instructed by 
man, does accomplish acts of which the most sagacious 
and best instructed of our dogs is incapable. If the dog is 
chained up, and the chain becomes entangled, the animal 
pulls it forcibly towards him, and often increases the evil, 
instead of removing it. If the obstacle continues, he 



362 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

becomes frightened, and cries out, but never thinks of 
searching into the cause of the mischance. It is not so 
with the orang-outang; the moment a similar accident 
happens to him, he tries to find out the real state of things. 
You will not see him pulling against a powerful obstacle 
with blind force; he stops at once, as a man would do 
in similar circumstances. He turns round to examine the 
cause of the occurrence. If the chain be entangled by a 
heap or weight of any kind, he disengages it. In every 
case he seeks the why and wherefore. Is not this seeking 
for causes a manifest sign of intelligence ? Another proof of 
the sagacity of these apes is the facility with which they 
recognise the pictures of insects or birds placed before them. 
It is true they mistake them for the reality, and try to take 
hold of them, and crush them, or else flee away if they 
have any cause to fear the animals depicted. In the same 
manner, when they see themselves in a looking-glass, they 
make signs, then go behind to look for the animal which is 
making grimaces in return for their own. Savages would 
not act more consistently. These intellectual manifestations 
are only seen in the species occupying the first rank in the 
order ; theMnferior kinds are more stupid, perhaps, than the 
least intelligent of the carnivora. 

The Courrier d 'Orient relates a fact which proves at once 
the degree of intelligent development to which some monkeys 
can attain. Three or four children, aged about seven or eight, 
were amusing themselves on the Place Sultan Mehemmed 
looking at monkeys dancing to the sound of the tambour, 
and they especially admired one of these animals, which 
played this instrument very cleverly, at the same time 
acting as guide to a poor blind man, his master, whom he 
conducted with an address and foresight equal to any man. 



THE ORANG-OUTANG. 363 

This interesting animal made, from time to time, the 
round for begging money, presenting with one hand the 
blind man to the spectators, with the other the tambour to 
receive the alms. Pieces of money and fruits were freely 
bestowed, and the monkey hastened to put all into the 
wallet of his master. 

The children had been the first to put their offerings 
into the tambour, and in each case they were small pieces 
of money, destined, no doubt, for the purchase of sweet- 
meats, but, being well-disposed children, they preferred 
giving their money in charity. Suddenly the youngest of 
the children uttered a cry, at the same time putting his hand 
to his head. A thief had . snatched at his cap, ornamented 
with pearls and set round with gold. Not being able to 
snatch it off, thanks to the strap which fastened it under the 
chin, he contented himself with tearing off one of the gold 
ornaments. The thief was immediately arrested. Can you 
guess by whom? By the monkey, who recognised him in 
the crowd, and pointed him out by fastening on to his 
clothes with his teeth and claws. Everybody hastened to 
his assistance, but he never left his hold until the arrival 
of an officer, who carried off the criminal to the station. 
The monkey, quite proud of his exploit, hastened to kiss 
the hand of the child he had so courageously protected ; 
then, having received this favour as his only recompense, 
he continued his performances I 



THE CHIMPANZEE. 

Most naturalists agree that of all known apes the chim- 
panzee approaches nearest to man, not only by the volume 
of the brain, but in the whole of its organisation. The 
formation of the head,* the intellectual superiority which 
distinguishes the features, the length of the arms — in better 
proportion to the size of the body than those of other 
apes — the size and perfect formation of the thumb, the 
roundness of the thighs, the almost human form of the feet, 
and consequently the nearly upright mode of walking, and 
the nature of the sounds which the animal is capable of 
making, all place the chimpanzee above the other Quadru- 
mana, and bring it near to man. 

Linnaeus, in the first edition of his " System of Nature," 
speaks of a " genus homo," under the denomination of 
"homo silvestris" or troglodyte. t Since then, a distinct 
genus has been found — the genus troglodyte of zoologists 
— and the species the best known bears the name of 
troglodyte niger, or black chimpanzee. This animal has 
the forehead rounded, but concealed by the arched eye- 
brows, the size of which is extreme. The face is brown 
and bare, with the exception of the cheeks, on which are 

* The cranium of the kooloo-kamba, as figured by Du Chaillu, is 
superior in form to that of the chimpanzee. 

f A Greek word, denoting a dweller in caves. 



THE CHIMPANZEE. 



365 



some hairs like whiskers. The eyes are small, but full of 
expression ; the nose flat, and the mouth large. 

The chimpanzee attains to the height of five or six feet, 
and, when supported by leaning on a stick, can walk up- 
right for several minutes. The hair is thicker on the back, 
shoulders, and legs than on other parts of the body, and is 
generally black. 

The chimpanzee is a native of Africa, and is only to be 
found in the forests of Congo and Guinea. When young, 
it is remarkable for 
gentleness and the 
ease with which it is 
tamed ; but loses, as 
it grows older, most 
of these good quali- 
ties, which are suc- 
ceeded by very fe- 
rocious instincts. It 
does not then hesi- 
tate to attack man ; 
and, armed with a 
stick, it strikes with 

violence. But the young chimpanzees are capable of being 
instructed in various ways. They learn to sit at table like 
civilised man ; partake of everything, particularly sweet- 
meats ; and can even become habituated to strong spirits. 
They can use a knife, fork, and spoon in eating ; will 
receive their visitors with much politeness, stay to bear 
them company, and show them out ! 

The chimpanzee is a native of the tropical parts of 
Africa; while the orang-outang is found in Asia. Its life 
in a wild state is little known, except from the accounts 




Chimpanzee at Table. 



366 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

given by the natives of the country. It is, they say, a 
formidable adversary for the elephant, as well as the car- 
nivorous animals, which it assails by blows from sticks or 
stones. 

One of the signs of superiority in man is the power of 
making use of extraneous aid, and adding this to his own 
strength. In this respect the chimpanzee holds a kind of 
intermediate position between man and the other animals. 
Its tactics, however limited they may be, show gleams of 
reason ; they are, in fact, the rudiments of human strategy, 
the first step towards dominion. 

From certain comparative studies of the chimpanzee 
and orang-outang, it is generally acknowledged that the 
former has superior sociable habits, and a better recollec- 
tion of the persons usually about him. He sits perfectly 
upright at table, and takes up food with the greatest ease 
between his thumb and forefinger. The chimpanzee loves 
bright colours, and is especially attentive to a female wear- 
ing a gay dress ! He delights to look out of windows ; the 
carriages and horses passing by seem to astonish him, and 
afford him much pleasure. The chimpanzee is more gentle 
in appearance, more graceful in form, and more civilised in 
manners than the orang-outang ; and there exists the same 
difference in the faculties of these two animals as in their 
exterior characteristics. 

Captain Payne has thus described the habits of a chim- 
panzee which had been obtained by a merchantman on the 
coast of the river Gambia, and which he was commissioned 
to bring to London in 183 1. " When the animal came on 
board," says he, " he gave several fingers of his hand to 
some of the sailors, but refused this mark of confidence, 
even angrily, to others, without any apparent reason. He 



THE CHIMPANZEE. 367 

soon, however, became familiar with all the crew, with the 
exception of one young cabin-boy, with whom he would 
never make friends. When the sailors were taking their 
meals on deck he was always at hand, making the round of 
the table, embracing each guest, uttering cries, and then 
seating himself amongst them to partake of the food. He 
sometimes expressed anger by a kind of bark, resembling 
that of a dog ; at other times he would cry like a peevish 
child, and scratch himself violently. When they gave him 
something nice, especially sweetmeats, he expressed his 
satisfaction by a sound resembling " Hem !" uttered in a 
grave tone. Beyond these, the variety of sounds in his 
language did not appear very extensive. In hot latitudes 
he was lively and active ; but languor took possession of 
him when we quitted the torrid zone. In approaching our 
shores, he manifested a desire to wrap himself up in warm 
coverings. He generally walked on all-fours ; never, however, 
placing the palms of his fore-feet on the ground, but, closing 
his hands, supported himself on the joints of his fingers. 
He rarely used the upright posture, although he could run 
quickly, for a short distance, on his hind feet. He learned 
easily to eat with a spoon and drink from a glass. When 
in our society he showed a great inclination to imitate the 
actions of men. The lustre of metals and shining bodies 
attracted him. He was not insensible to coquetry, and 
exhibited a kind of vanity in clothing himself with the 
garments of human beings. He was seen several times 
walking proudly on deck with a cocked hat on his head." 

The Museum of Natural History at Paris, thirty years 
ago, possessed a chimpanzee which showed much intelli- 
gence. One day, when it had been put in confinement for 
some fault, it experienced a desire common to all living 

Y 



368 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

beings when shut up, that is to say, a wish to recovei 
liberty ; only it showed in this enterprise a perception of 
consequences, and a method of surmounting difficulties, 
which were very remarkable. It first of all fixed its eyes 
on the door of the room in which it was imprisoned ; but 
this door was locked, and the key hung on a nail. The 
ape was not discouraged by this obstacle. Raising himself 
on the points of his toes, he tried to possess himself of the 
key, but the nail hiing too high for him to reach it. After 
several useless attempts, in which the animal showed as 
much perseverance as sagacity, it comprehended that the 
key was placed at such a distance that it would never be 
able to reach it even with the tips of his fingers. It then 
placed a chair against the wall, mounted, and unhooked the 
key. That done, it got down, inserted it very cleverly 
into the lock, and unfastened the door. 

" Who, after this, will dare gainsay 
That beasts have sense as well as they ? 
For me — could I the ruler be — 
They should have just as much as we, 
In youth, at least/ In early years, 
Who thinks, reflects, or ever fears ? 
Or if we do — unmeaning elves — 
'Tis scarcely known e'en to ourselves. 
Thus, by examples clear and plain, 
We for these poor creatures claim 
Sense to think, reflect, and plan, 
And in their actions rival man : 
Their guide — not instinct blind alone, 
But reason, somewhat like our own !" 







Just the Books for Presents and Prizes. 



CljarkB 0crtbnet & €0., 



654 Broadway, New York, 



HAVE JUST COMMENCED THE PUBLICATION OF 

@|p HWrafrb Hirers of Mmhm, 



This Library is based upon a similar series of works now in course of issue 
in France, the popularity of which may be inferred from the fact that 

OVER ONE MILLION COPIES 

have been sold. The volumes to be comprised in the series are all written 
in a popular style, and, where scientific subjects are treated of, with care- 
ful accuracy, and with the purpose of embodying the latest discoveries and 
inventions, and the results of the most recent developments in every de- 
partment of investigation. Familiar explanations are given of the most 
striking phenomena in nature, and of the various operations and processes 
in science and the arts. Occasionally notable passages in history and re- 
markable adventures are described. The different volumes are profusely 
illustrated with engravings, designed by the most skilful artists, and execu- 
ted in the most careful manner, and every possible care will be taken to 
render them complete and reliable expositions of the subjects upon which 
they respectively treat. For THE FAMILY LIBRARY, for use as 
PRIZES in SCHOOLS, as an inexhaustible fund of ANECDOTE and 
ILLUSTRATION for TEACHERS, and as works of instruction and 
amusement for readers of all ages, the volumes comprising THE ILLUS 
TRATED LIBRARY OF WONDERS will be found unexcelled. 
The following volumes of the series have been published : — 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



JHE WONDERS OF OPTICS.— By F. Marion. 

-*- Illustrated with over seventy engravings on wood, many of 

them full-page, and a colored frontispiece. One volume, i2mo. 

Price $15° 

In the Wonders of Optics, the phenomena of Vision, including the struc- 
ture of the eye, optical illusions, the illusions caused by light itself, and the 
influence of the imagination, are explained. These explanations are not at 
all abstract or scientific. Numerous striking facts and events, many of which 
were once attributed to supernatural causes, are narrated, and from them the 
laws in accordance with which they were developed are derived. The closing 
section of the book is devoted to Natural Magic, and the properties of Mir- 
rors, the Stereoscope, the Spectroscope, &c, &c, are fully described, together 
with the methods by which "Chinese Shadows," Spectres, and numerous 
other illusions are produced. The book is one which furnishes an almost 
illimitable fund of amusement and instruction, and it is illustrated with no 
less than 73 finely executed engravings, many of them full-page. 

CRITICAL NOTICES. 

" The work has the merit of conveying much useful scientific information in a popular 
manner." — Phila. North American. 

"The subject is ably treated, sufficiently scientific to be reliable as a manual for the 
student, and sufficiently popular in style and treatment to make it attractive to the general 
reader." — San Francisco Evening Bulletin. 

" Thoroughly admirable, and as an introduction to this science for the general reader, 
leaves hardly anything to be desired." — N. Y. Evening Post. 

"Treats in a charming, but scientific and exhaustive manner, the wonderful subject of 
optics." — Cleveland Leader. 

"All the marvels of light and of optical illusions are made clear." — N. Y. Observer. 

'"THUNDER AND LIGHTNING. By W. De Fon- 

-*■ vielle. Illustrated with 39 Engravings on wood, nearly 
all full-page. One volume, i2mo $1 50 

Thunder and Lightning, as its title indicates, deals with the most star- 
tling phenomena of nature. The writings of the author, M. De Fonvielle, 
have attracted very general attention in France, as well on account of the 
happy manner in which he calls his readers' attention to certain facts hereto- 
fore treated in scientific works only, as because of the statement of others 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



often observed and spoken of, over which he appears to throw quite a new 
light. The different kinds of lightning — forked, globular, and sheet light- 
ning — are described ; numerous instances of the effects produced by this won- 
derful agency are very graphically narrated ; and thirty-nine engravings, nearly 
all full-page, illustrate the text most effectively. The volume is certain to 
excite popular interest, and to call the attention of persons unaccustomed to 
observe to some of the wonderful phenomena which surround us in this 
world. 

CRITICAL NOTICES. 

" In the book before us the dryness of detail is avoided. The author has given us all 
the scientific information necessary, and yet so happily united interest with instruction that 
no person who has the smallest particle of curiosity to investigate the subject treated of can 
fail to be interested in it." — N. Y. Herald. 

" Any boy or girl who wants to read strange stories and see curious pictures of the do- 
ings of electricity, had better get these books." — Our Young Folks. 

" A volume which cannot fail to attract attention and awaken interest in persons who 
have not been accustomed to give the subject any thought" — Daily Register {Neio 
Haven). 

"The work is well done." — Presbyterian. 

THE WONDERS OF HEAT. By Achille Cazin. 

"*■ With 90 illustrations, many of them full-page, and a colored 
frontispiece. One volume, i2mo $1 50 

In the Wonders of Heat the principal phenomena are presented as viewed 
from the standpoint afforded by recent discoveries. Burning-glasses, and the 
remarkable effects produced by them, are described ; the relations between 
heat and electricity, between heat and cold, and the comparative effects of 
each, are discussed ; and incidentally, interesting accounts are given of the 
mode of formation of glaciers, of Montgolfier's balloon, of Davy's safety- 
lamp, of the methods of glass-blowing, and of numerous other facts in nature 
and processes in art dependent upon the influence of heat. Like the other 
volumes of the Library of Wonders, this is illustrated wherever the text 
gives an opportunity for explanation by this method. 

CRITICAL NOTICES. 

"From the first to the very last page the interest is all-absorbing." — Albany Evening 
Times. 

" The book deserves, as it will doubtless attain, a wide circulation." — Pittsburg Chron- 
icle. 

" Abounds in correct and useful information." — S/>ringJield Republican. 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



" This book is instructive and clear." — Independent. 

" It describes and explains the wonders of heat in a manner to be clearly understood by 
non-scientific readers." — Phila. Inquirer. 

" Full of useful and deeply interesting information. — Universalist. 

" Its comprehensiveness and cheapness will cause it to be in demand." — Norwich Bul- 
letin. 

animal MttlUsmtt. 

""THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, with 
-*- Illustrative Anecdotes. — From the French of Ernest 

Menault. With 54 illustrations. One volume, i2mo . $i 50 

In this very interesting volume there are grouped together a great num- 
ber of facts and anecdotes collected from original sources, and from the 
writings of the most eminent naturalists of all countries, designed to illus- 
trate the manifestations of intelligence in the animal creation. Very many 
novel and curious facts regarding the habits of Reptiles, Birds, and Beasts 
are narrated in the most charming style, and in a way which is sure to 
excite the desire of every reader for wider knowledge of one of the most 
fascinating subjects- in the whole range of natural history. The grace and 
skill displayed in the illustrations, which are very numerous, make the vol- 
ume singularly attractive. 

CRITICAL NOTICES. 

" May be recommended as very entertaining." — London Athenoeum. 
" The stories are of real value to those who take any interest in the curious habits of 
animals." — Rochester Democrat. 



lH3£Ut 



T7GYPT 3,300 YEARS AGO; or, Rameses the 
■*— ' Great. By F. De Lanoye. With 40 illustrations. One 
volume, i2mo . . . $1 50 

This volume is devoted to the wonders of Ancient Egypt during the time 
of the Pharaohs and under Sesostris, the period of its greatest splendor and 
magnificence. Her monuments, her palaces, her pyramids, and her works 
of art are not only accurately described in the text, but reproduced in a 
series of very attractive illustrations as they have been restored by French 
explorers, aided by students of Egyptology. While the volume has the 
attraction of being devoted to a subject which possesses all the charms of 
novelty to the great number of readers, it has the substantial merit of dis- 
cussing, with intelligence and careful accuracy, one of the greatest epochs 
in the world's history. 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



CRITICAL NOTICES. 

" I think this a good book for the purpose for which it is designed. It is brief on each 
head, lively and graphic, without any theatrical artifices ; is not the work of a novice, but 
of a real scholar in Egyptology, and, as far as can be ascertained now, is history." — 
J A MES C. MOFFA T, Professor in Princeton Theological Seminary. 

ADVENTURES ON THE GREAT HUNTING 

^ GROUNDS OF THE WORLD. By Victor Meunier. 
Illustrated with 22 woodcuts. One volume, i2mo . . $1 50 

Besides numerous thrilling adventures judiciously selected, this work con- 
tains much valuable and exceedingly interesting information regarding the 
different animals, adventures with which are narrated, together with accu. 
rate descriptions of the different countries, making the volume not only in- 
teresting, but instructive in a remarkable degree. 



JJowjatiu 

VyONDERS OF POMPEII. By Marc Monnier. 

With 30 ilkistrations. One volume 121110, . $1 50 
There are here summed up, in a very lively and graphic style, the results 
of the discoveries made at Pompeii since the commencement of the exten- 
sive excavations there. The illustrations represent the houses, the domes- 
tic utensils, the statues, and the various works of art, as investigation gives 
every reason to believe that they existed at the time of the eruption. 

SttWitwt in *Nutuvt. 

THE SUBLIME IN NATURE, FROM DESCRIP- 
TIONS OF CELEBRATED TRAVELLERS AND WRI- 
TERS. By Ferdinand Lanoye. Illustrated with 48 woodcuts. 
One volume, i2mo - - - $1 50 

The Air and Atmospheric Phenomena, the Ocean, Mountains, Volcanic 
Phenomena, Rivers, Falls and Cataracts, Grottoes and Caverns, and 
the Phenomena of Vegetation, are described in this volume, and in the 
most charming manner possible, because the descriptions given have been 
selected from the writings of the most distinguished authors and travellers. 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



The illustrations, several of which are from the pencil of Gustave 
Dore, reproduce scenes in this country, as well as in foreign lands. 

also is press: 

I. "WONDERS OF THE HEAVENS. V. ACOUSTICS. 

II. Wonders op Architecture. VI. TnE Human Frame. 

III. Bottom op the Ocean. VII. Lighthouses. 

IV. The SUN. By Guillemin. VIII. The Moon. By Guillemin. 

&c, &c., &c. 



&pmmen Sllitstrattotts 



FROM 



Wfy Iih%iv&bb fctfirarg of tf onbprs. 



8 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



THE WONDERS OF OPTICS. 

By F. MARION. 

\* ... over seventy engravings, and a colored frontispiece. One vol. nmo. Price $i 50. 




For description of book, see page 2. 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



THUNDER AND LIGHTNING. 

By W. De FONVIELLE. 
With 39 engravings, nearly all full-page. One volume, i2mo, §i 50. 




Bell-ringer struck by Lightning. 
For description of book, see page 2. 



IO 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



THE WONDERS OF HEAT. 

By ACHILLE CAZIN. 
With 90 illustrations, and a colored frontispiece. One vol. i2mo, $1 50. 

III9 ISlillilllilllliiliilill *S^ v% 







For description of book, see page % 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, 

WITH ILLUSTRATIVE ANECDOTES. 
With 54 illustrations. One volume, nmo, $i 50. 




THE DRAKE LEADING THE LADY TO THE RESCUE. 

For description of book, see page 4. 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



ADVENTURES ON THE 

GREAT HUNTING GROUNDS OF THE WORLD. 

Illustrated with 22 woodcuts. One volume, i2mo., $1 50. 




For description of book, see page 5. 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



*3 



EGYPT 3,300 YEARS AGO. 

By F. DE LANOYE. 
With 40 illustrations. One vo'ume, 12010, $1 50. 




The Sphinx oi' Rameses II. (according to the Sphinx at the Louvre) 
For description of book, see page 4. 



H 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



POMPEII AND THE POMPEIANS. 

By MARC MONNIER. 
With 30 Illustrations. One volume, i2mo, $> 1 50. 




For description of book, see page 5. 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



it 



ACOUSTICS; 

OR, THE WONDERS OF SOUND. 

With ioo illustrations. One vol. i2mo. Price, $1 50. 




^ 



S^P^fe^ 



' A : . - . .--^ . /^^= --^cz^rr ■ 




VOICES OF BIRDS. 




EFFECT OF MOTION ON THE SHAHPNESS OF SOUND. 



i6 



Illustrated Library of Wonders. 



THE SUBLIME IN NATURE 

From Descriptions of Celebrated Writers and Travellers. 

Illustrated with 38 full-page engravings. One vol. i2mo. Price, $1 50. 



JB; nrr 




A GORGE IN THE PYRENEES. 

For description of book, see page 5. 



MAY 19 1949 



